The Prelate's War
by FierySable
Summary: Relena and Heero are from two different societies, both warriors, competent, and fighting against the Midland Union. Their countries must ally; can they get their people to work together or will they fall under a cloud of mistrust? 1xR*ch.7*
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: not mine

AN: New series…fun fun…it's the first series that I've written in a llllloooooooonnnnnnggggggggg time!! .^_^ It's an AU fic as well, (something I've never done, YAY! Ehh heh heh….) Well, enjoy minna! Have fun, I know I will!

Prologue

"The Mid-Land Nation have grown stronger." Two men sat on opposite sides of a table, rheumy eyes gleaming slightly in the ominous darkness of the room, the only sound accompanying their voices were the quiet scrape of chair against marble as they leaned forward, seemingly absorbed in the chess pieces that stood in two neat rows. A gnarled finger tapped casually at the chessboard before picking a single piece up, caressing the dark pawn before moving it forward one step. "We have taken over the Eastern Sphere, and in the West, the TransDiem Nations as well as the once _mighty_ Kingdom of the Three Rivers are ours." A laugh, nasty and sharp, snapped through the air like a whip. "Tuberov is to be congratulated, by the way, for his ingenuous work with the dikes. Releasing them all at once and flooding their own villages was such an…expedient…way to take care of the problem."

"Hmm…and the Dominion?"

"Our dear Commander Dekkam is whittling away at the farther provinces as we speak." The dark knight was moved over three steps up, then one to the side, the rearing horse making harsh sandpapery sounds against the black and white squares before landing decisively in the white. "Unfortunately, Treize has become so desperate, he even asks the _Sanq__Kingdom_ for their aid."

"That _pacifist_ nation? The Prelate is willing to protect the Dominion, is she?" The white queen moved forward seven paces to be captured by the knight, "Good move."

"Thank you. I did think so." Was the sardonic reply, but the first man ignored his companion as he picked up the fragile piece, inspecting the glass figurine minutely before tossing it to one side. It rolled precariously on the edge of the wooden table before falling to the marble floor in a tinkle of breaking glass under the watchful gaze of the two men. "Did you _have_ to do that? I was winning." The nasal voice complained, but the other man was already rising out of his chair.

"Come, we have much to do. More than playing around with pretty baubles, at the very least." He strode out of the room, the door opening in a brief flash of light before creaking shut with a hollow bang. For a minute the remaining contestant sat thoughtfully in his seat before reaching out with a casual hand to inspect the knight. With a shrug he dropped it onto its side, letting it loll around forlornly before coming to a halt at the base of the dark king's feet. Smiling coldly, he stood up to follow his colleague out of the room, then paused.

"All hail the Queen," he muttered snidely, then tipped over the white king before he too walked out of the room. The king clattered against the black knight, causing it to tumble to the ground, rolling until it rested near the shattered remains of the queen. The moonlight gleamed slightly on its marred surface, revealing the cracks that ran through the surface of glass like spider webs running through water…

***

A few years later

Sand and dust blew across the arid plains, driven by the harsh winds that rippled the grass and forced saplings to bow their heads to the incoming storm. A hint of rain darkened the skies, turning the clouds a smoky gray in stark contrast to the metallic sky. A trio of riders sat motionless on their steeds, eyes fixed ahead of them with quiet intensity, unmoved by nature's screaming, as they seemed to wait for…something. A thrush called raucously from a gnarled branch in shrill counterpoint to the lower moaning of the winds, but as they ignored the antics of earth, so they ignored the small bird which, disgusted, flitted away to taunt something worthier of its time.

One of the men lifted his head slightly, then glanced at his companions, features hooded and unemotional from underneath a shock of terra-brown bangs that covered the right side of his face. "Rain." He commented simply, and the others nodded curtly in acknowledgement.

"Hai." 

Obsidian eyes narrowed in annoyance as the mare shift uneasily beneath him, tossing her head restlessly as the corded muscles of at her neck bunched, then relaxed in a series of tiny ripples. He laid a soothing hand on the beast's flank, caressing the tough hide with his knuckles, then raised a brow in surprise to find her dripping with saltine runnels of sweat. 

"Nataku is restless…we have stayed here too long." He reined his horse in more firmly as the thoroughbred tossed began pawing at the ground, gouging a small hole in the loose soil. He shifted in his seat to scowl at the brooding features of one of his bodyguards, but the other merely glanced back at him indifferently. "They are late, Nanashi."

An equally cold voice replied softly, "They'll be here, Wufei." 

Wufei clenched his teeth before allowing his body to relax, unwilling to upset the already taut mare as he answered bitingly, "It is a trap. Perhaps the Prelate of the Sanq Kingdom has no intention of allying itself with the Dominion." He looked to the last rider for support, but Heero shook his head, his unruly bangs hiding his expression, saying nothing in defense or support of the dignitary.

Nanashi did not turn to look at the Chinese, merely lifted his shoulders in a negligent shrug. "The last one was an honorable woman; her people say she has ruled her country well." 

"Oh?" Wufei challenged, "And how do we know that this _onna_ has done as you say, Nanashi? The Dominion has never initiated any contact with this…this Kingdom." Wufei almost spat the word, dark eyes hard, "You have no proof to substantiate your claim."

Nanashi threw him a single ironic glance before turning his attention back to the ever-shifting prairie. "The Dominion has offered political alliances to no one before the war."

"Nonetheless-"

"Enough." Heero's calm voice interrupted Wufei's diatribe, causing the two other Dominion warriors to glance at him in askance. He nodded slightly towards the long plume of dust clouds that was quickly approaching them. "They are here." Kicking his horse into a swift canter and he left Wufei to narrow his eyes at the guard before turning Nataku to follow.

"It remains to be seen whether they can be trusted." Wufei muttered doggedly but Nanashi merely smiled, saying nothing.

***

Six horses galloped across the dusky fields, the expressions of their riders masked by hoods and sashes tied across their face to combat the affects of the stinging sands. They rode in a pyramidic shape, one in the front, two flanking her, and three behind them, ducking their faces deeper into their hoods. A man with a long braid grinned mischievously at one of the other guards at his side, violet eyes twinkling in wicked cheer as he whispered, "If I didn't know better ojou-san, I would think that they sent for us at the harshest season of the year." 

Her azure eyes lit up in quickly suppressed laughter before the amusement was concealed beneath a serene façade as she murmured back, "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were right, Duo."

They both turned as their companion, a petite girl with raven-black hair gave another not so petite sneeze, hands wiping tears away from her cheeks as the sand irritated her sensitive eyes. "I _hate_ this wind, damnit…" She coughed and choked again as a particularly strong gust of wind tore her scarf from her mouth, filling it generously with a handful of sand before she managed to tuck the fly-away edges back into her hood. "Damn them, damn their sand, and most of all, damn their ever cursed _wind!_"

Duo smirked, his characteristically wicked charm surging to the forefront again as he teased, "Not used to a little breeze after the easy life as a Mandalore guardswoman, eh?" then immediately ducked with a yelp that was only half-feigned as she raised a threatening fist in his direction. 

"Not used to it after this because I am a Sword-sworn of the _Prelate_ and I stay as a _Palace_ guard." she retorted, jabbing an elbow into Duo's side before another sneeze shook her. "Gods above…assassins and thieves and the occasional court function, I can handle. This godforsaken land has _wind! _Why couldn't we have waited for them to come to us? Or at least waited until fall when the worst of the summer sand-storms are over?"

Duo shrugged, then glanced at Relena, who sighed wearily.

"The Mid-Lands have taken the provinces of Chelsi and NorthBank from them already…they _do _have legitimate concerns," She replied. "With those two provinces stripped away, they have just lost the only buffer zone they had. The Sanq Kingdom can replace that and in return, we get protection from the south. The Mid-Land Nation is growing stronger with every new conquest, it is a surprise that the Sanq Kingdom has even remained intact thus far…" Worried eyes glanced at the other two. "Lady Une petitioned for an audience with the representatives of the Dominion for a long time…It was only last winter that they responded with anything except a noncommittal answer."

"Of course," Duo smirked, flipping his braid casually over his shoulder, "I was there, remember? Stoic soldiers, all of them. Old saying goes that every Dominion warrior has a sword in his hand and a sword up his ass." He shook his head, "But man…I have _never_ met a fiercer pack of wild dogs in my life…haven't gotten one of their warriors to say more than three words either."

"You probably annoyed the Hell outta them, last time, and that was the only reason they said _anything_ to a braided baka like you!" Hilde retorted and he laughed in tacit agreement.

"Yeah…cracked jokes and behaved like an idiot until finally, this guy says his famous three words. 'Omae o kuruso.' That's it, end of story."

"Omae o kuruso? I will kill you?" Hilde asked incredulously, then glanced at Relena, who shook her head in ignorance and disbelief. "At a _peace_ delegation?"

"No joke." Duo replied, then grinned, "Lady of the Shiny Glasses just about strangled me with my braid when she told me to shut up…politely, of course." 

Relena stifled a smile before answering, "Remember Duo, Lady Catalonia is just as strict, and she _won't_ stop at 'just about'; she _will_ do some strangling when you get out of line." The Guardswoman glanced at him in warning, "If you do anything to jeopardize relations with the Dominion, I might help her."

Duo smirked, "Sure ojou-san…I believe you. Come on…everyone knows that beneath that nasty little Agiel, you're a pacifist, born and bred. You wouldn't harm a fly." He was nearly unseated as the small duel-bladed Agiel sang inches away from his face before the gold-link chain spun to wrap around Relena's slender wrist again, the blade caught between her fore and middle fingers as she raised a questioning brow.

"Oh?" 

Beside her, Hilde choked in laughter at the surprise and indignation that was evident on Duo's lean face, even beneath the layers of sash and cloth while Relena merely smiled serenely, tucking the small weapon back into her sleeve.

"Apparently, she thinks you're _lower_ than a fly," Hilde said mischievously, then glanced towards their blonde companion. "What do you think, Rel?"

"Enough." The three looked up as the ambassador reigned in her horse, skillfully calming it as it snorted, shifting uneasily as the sand whirled around its hocks with stinging viciousness. "They are here. I want no pranks, no provocation this time," Her flaming azure eyes lingered particularly on Duo before the swept over the rest of her convoy, before she nodded once sharply, turning back to the incoming warriors. "Or be assured, I will to take matters into my _own_ hands." 

"Sheesh, who died and made her Prelate?" Duo muttered as Odin and Quatre fell back with the rest of the guards, forming a single straight line. Odin raised a brow and Hilde grimaced beneath her sash, even though they all smoothed their faces into unrevealing masks, silent sentinels that were as dangerous as they were skillful. 

"Quiet Duo," Relena murmured quietly, "we are her guards; the Prelate trusts the Lady with foreign relations and you are out of line." 

"The Captain is correct, Duo." Quatre said, quiet strain and anxiety marring his face. He brushed back his light blonde hair with agitated restlessness before glancing back at the braided man. "This is not the time to joke. You know the temperaments of these warriors…they have much pride and honor. They are very dangerous people and strong fighters. We don't need another enemy against us. Especially not-" Duo's soft laughter interrupted him and he grinned, holding his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Oi oi oi…so little faith, ojou-san, Quatre-san…would I do anything to endanger relationships between us and those sword-wielding Dominion representatives?"

"You would be the first," Hilde muttered darkly, but Duo's retort was lost in the thunder of hooves as their three guides skidded to a stop. For a second, only the wind's voice howled as the two groups seized up on each other, analyzing each other's strengths and weaknesses warily, as hands strayed to fidget absently with still-sheathed weapons.

Finally, a man in pristine white dismounted, bowing in a perfunctory manner before he snapped coldly, "My name is Chang Wufei, head of the Clan of the Dragon. These are my escorts, Heero Yuy and Nanashi. We will be the ones you deal with upon coming to the White Fang Dominion." Dorothy's back stiffened at the lack of traditional greetings and her horse, sensing a sudden change in her rider's mood, bared her teeth, and flattening her ears in subtle warning. 

"My my, isn't that nice," Duo whispered sarcastically, "Queen of Cats meets Chauvinistic Pig…could this day get any better?" then he grunted slightly as Hilde kicked him in the leg.

"Shut up Duo." She whispered, gripping her reins tighter. But she didn't look away from the three newcomers as her fingers touched her mare's sweat-sheened neck. "Even Aries is behaving better than you are. Just shut up and pretend that you're half as competent as you think you are."

Duo's eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to hiss back at her. But once again, he denied action as Relena threw a cautioning glance at him, hand touching her Agiel beneath her voluminous sleeves. With a disgusted mutter, he subsided into silence, smoothing his braid down before once again sitting still on his battlesteed, caressing the long cloth-bound pack that hung at his side.

The Sanq representative raised an eyebrow coolly at the chilly reception, not deigning to reply and not bothering to dismount as she sat glaring down at him from her tall mare. Instead she regarded him as one might regard an insect about to be crushed beneath a boot heel, causing him to flush in angry embarrassment. Before relations could be cancelled before they had been begun, Relena slipped off her horse, ground-tying the stallion before walking up to Dorothy and offered a hand up to her with a slight bow. Dorothy smiled slightly in feline amusement before calmly accepting the proffered assistance, sliding off the horse and straightening her ornamental mantle. She turned, nodding regally at the furious ambassador of the Dominion as she stood slightly in front of Relena. "Lord Chang. I am Lady Dorothy Catalonia of the House of Catalonia, eldest of my family and Advisor of the Prelate."

Wufei choked, "A _woman_?!"

Dorothy narrowed her eyes but ignored the remark, as she glanced around her at the barren plains and smiled mockingly. In subtle retaliation, she purred softly, "The _Lady_ Relena Peacecraft is my Captain at Arms and this is _her_ unit, the Preventers. Duo Maxwell and Hilde Schliebecker of the Imperial Guards, Quatre Rebaba Winner of the House of Winner, and her Second in Command, Odin Lowe. They have acted as my guards and my escorts, journeying across your," She glanced around her again in an almost deprecatory manner, "_holdings_, in an effort to speak with you at the Prelate's behest. Tell me, representative, is this where we will carry out the peace talks? Does His Majesty Trieze wish to freeze and sand-blind us into submission?" Wufei stiffened at the insult, hand going to the hilt of his katana, and Dorothy instinctively slid her own fingers around her saber's hilt as the two combatants squared off. But Relena was suddenly in front of Dorothy, her gleaming Agiel spinning effortlessly into her hand. 

"Ambassador Chang, I am bound by loyalty to the Sanq Kingdom to ensure Lady Catalonia's safety on this mission. I will not allow you to harm her in any way. Therefore I would ask…no…I _demand_…that take your hand from your blade." The Guardswoman's voice muffled by the heavy cloth that covered the lower half of her face, but her flashing eyes were warning enough. "You have your own loyalty to the Dominion-" 

"Do not lecture me on how to do my job, onna!" Wufei spat insolently, causing a shift in the line of riders as the Preventers responded to the veiled insult of their commander, but it was another voice that cut into the conversation, calm yet as deadly as a steel axe.

"Ambassador Chang, His Excellency Trieze waits for us at the capital." Relena glanced up warily as one of the Dominion bodyguards moved forward, azure clashing with dark Prussian and her hand tightened around her Agiel instinctively. There was a primitive wildness in his gaze, hot emotion masked by the subtler façade of a soldier, and then it was gone in the next second, leaving her shaken and wondering if she hadn't only imagined it.

Dorothy nodded briefly before she turned towards Wufei, lowering her lashes to hide the mistrust that sparked in her eyes, brushing wayward bangs from her face. "Forgive me for rousing you, Lord Chang," She said, as a brittle smile, as false as the apology had been, crossed her face, "It seems that this war has brought nerves taut and tolerance to the breaking point, does it not?"

He nodded once, his own face cold as ice. He did not bother to smile as he gestured behind him. "Of course. Please follow us into the capital. We will be your guard for-"

"Again, I must ask forgiveness," Dorothy interrupted and Relena glanced back to her unit, praying that cooler head would prevail. Their eyes were narrowed and face set at the newest insult, however unwittingly offered and their gaze was focused solely on Wufei's form. Odin fingered his dagger maliciously.

"Seems to me t'Lord needs t'be cut down a few inches from his pedestal," He murmured softly to Duo, who nodded once, a wolfish smile crossing his own face.

"Damn me if you aren't right," Duo answered quietly, eyes hard as sparkling amethysts, "What say we do the cutting; you get his head, I get what makes him a man."

"Are you sure he's even that?" Odin rumbled, and the cloth merely stretched tighter across Duo's face as his grin widened, but he made no reply as he listened avidly to Dorothy's rebuttal.

"This _is_ my guard unit, Lord Chang…as I have mentioned before. You…needn't…_bother_…yourself worrying for my safety. They are here for _more_ than ornamental purposes, trained to be our finest and most efficient soldiers." Dorothy smiled mildly, showing all her teeth, as she eyed the Oriental man with cold eyes. "They _do_ understand the ways of warfare, Lordling, even if you believe that I do not. I trust they can defend me adequately, is that not correct, Captain Peacecraft?"

In response, Relena bowed her head, murmuring, "Of course, my Lady. We are here to serve." 

Wufei ground his teeth together before mounting his horse, signaling curtly to his own men to follow, not bothering to look behind him. Dorothy narrowed cat-like eyes before swinging gracefully into her own saddle as Quatre and Odin moved up again to flank her sides. With a sigh, Relena whistled softly, causing her stallion to perk up his ears and trot forward obediently. She swung on as he passed, righting herself before gesturing for the others to follow in guard positions, as she scanned the flat plains for any potential danger as she moved to Dorothy's right side, next to Odin.

"What do you think of the Dominion warriors, Odin," She murmured quietly, eyes staring straight ahead. "I sensed nothing from them."

"Th'lord's restless," Odin whispered softly, "An'his guards…cold as ice, both of them. They're hiding something."

She nodded, turning her head slightly so that only he could hear her above the wind, "Yes…I wonder if this bodes ill for the conference then. Lady Une made no mention of their inflexibility with women." There was worry in Relena's eyes that she couldn't mask. "Perhaps the Wolflings should have come in our stead…"

"The Wolflings are n'inexperienced pack a' hotheads, and the Prelate knew." He glanced at her, then grinned crookedly, "You, of all people, should trust n'the decision of the Prelate, Capt'n. Fer this mission, we are the'best." Relena sighed, then wrapped the silken material more closely against her mouth against the sand that seemed to dig its way in through the folds of cloth.

"Sometimes I wonder if this fight isn't so meaningless…so many battles, so many lives. The Mid-Landers have lost as many, if not more of their men than the nations they have conquered. Have they no reverence for human life?"

"You don't have th'Barton mindset," Odin replied, his eyes gleaming with sympathy even as his voice turned to ice, "And th'Bartons are th'ones who govern the Mid-Lands. They're ruthless bastards, the whole Clan of 'em; insane…too much inbreeding, maybe?" He gave a cynical laugh. "Th'want to keep the power in the family, you see, so marrying first cousins ain't unusual. They don't care if men die in war…even their own family. To them, men are just pawns in a game o' chess...insignificant and easily replaceable."

Relena couldn't suppress a shudder that made its way up her spine, and suddenly, the winds became that much colder. "That's disgusting, Odin."

"Aye, Captain, t'is. But also true."

***

TERMS:

Agiel: a small bladed weapon with no handle and no hilt. Instead, a long chain loops through a hole bored into the center and twines around the wielder's arm and attaches at a collar around her throat. It's twin blades were sharp enough to cut through ordinary steel when thrown, the chain at the hand of an experienced wielder allowing her to maneuver the slight weapon. But in inexperienced hands though, it can easily be turned against the wielder, choking the person around the neck or if it isn't spun right, slicing into the person's own skin. Usually an expertise in this form of combat is a sign of skill or nobility…or both.

AN: This is the first AU fic I've ever written, and for once, sap isn't at it's core. *shock* I know…^_^ I was kinda like "what the hell???" at my muse too, lol. But if you want to be updated when new chapters come out or when another one of my stuff comes out, just give me your email and I'll notify you when it comes out. Luv ya lotz minna!

* * *


	2. Chapter 1

AN: to twilight shadow (Goldberry). *Sable kinda embarrassed.* some of the terminology is the same, but not a lot and I'm sorry that I forgot to write it in, I'm getting old and senile; that's my excuse. Danke for your encouragement in my application! ^____________^ Working on my art portfolio so it'll be a hectic few dayz (weeks…months…lol!) And to all of u out there, Happy Holidayz! 

Chapter one: City of Stone

A city appeared on the horizon, a small dot that slowly expanded into a sprawling plethora of buildings and battlements, simple stands to large merchant shops carved from granite and clay. Relena managed a tired smile as she urged her sable stallion forward to trot at Dorothy's side.

"Captain." Dorothy greeted briefly, but her eyes never strayed from the city that loomed ahead of them. "News?"

"Ambassador. I sense no overt hostility-"

"Except the fact that the gates are closed to us and the women hide their babes in the folds of their skirts? Or perhaps, do you sense this "lack of hostility" in the curved swords that the men wear at their sides, and the fact that the city is barren of the business and bustle that should be going on at this time in the day?" Dorothy's eyes were sardonic as she lifted a feline brow. 

"That cannot be construed as _overt_ hostility." Relena countered adamantly. "Fear yes, but their actions are caused from the imminent threat of a Mid-land attack, not because we are here. I can even venture as to say that the men that surround us are more for _our_ protection than anything else. After all," Relena smiled slightly, "we _are_ just worthless pacifists that don't know how to string a bow…"

"Don't hear Quatre hear you say that," Dorothy commented dryly then looked up warily as a shadow fell across her. "Sir Yuy. Have you taken over the duty of seeing us to the capital then?" 

"Lady Dorothy. Captain Peacecraft. I have been ordered to welcome you to Colonias, the Dominion capital city and inform you that Lord Trieze has prepared a banquet in honor of your arrival." He said monotonously, and instead of an arch reply, Dorothy bowed slightly at the waist, letting the loose material of her caftan swing gracefully about her.

"The pleasure is mine. I hope that this conference turns out as we all wish it to." She replied smoothly. "May we all gain peace." Heero nodded curtly, then his cold eyes swung to Relena in an almost interrogatory manner.

"Captain. You will leave your weapons on the steps of the Imperial Mansion…they are not necessary for the peace talks." 

Relena eyed the taller man nervously as Heero looked down at her from his own mount, which was obviously one of the famed Dominion war-mares. Horses bred to be muscular, strong; a war-mare could fight as fiercely as her rider in a skirmish, striking at anything within her reach. Her purposely-sharpened hooves were as accurate as any sword and perhaps even more deadly. Relena felt her own Nirobi shift uneasily away from the cold-eyed mare and steadied him with a murmured word. Although not as deadly as the Dominion mare, horses bred of the Sanq line was no broken-backed cobs either…instead of pure muscle, they were known for their intelligence and cunning, more like a cat's spirit in the form of a lithe equine. And as shown now, they were also bred for their courage in the face of daunting odds.

Relena nodded respectfully at the warrior, but she looked him in the eye, shoulders squared and chin tipped up stubbornly. "Sir Yuy. Weapons are not necessary for the peace talks; this is true. Yet we will keep them to protect the ambassador by your leave." When he narrowed his eyes, she added quietly, "Would you not do the same had you visited the Sanq Kingdom?"

"They are not needed." Heero said coldly, sidestepping her logic altogether.

"Nevertheless-"

"They are not needed." There was a tacit warning in Heero's narrowed eyes, sending pikes of ice down Relena's back. _He's so cold…unemotional. Is this the face he shows in battle?_

Relena tightened her fists on her reins before saying quietly but just as tenaciously, "Sir Yuy…my main objective is protecting Ambassador Catalonia against harm from within and without. Now…I will be blunt with you. The White Fang Dominion and the Sanq Kingdom have never had…amiable…relations. The Prelate trusts the good intentions of the Dominion; but then again, as Prelate, he may. As a soldier, I do not have that luxury. I must insist that we be allowed to bring our weapons into the banquet hall." Her smile was more than a little forced as she looked back at him with unafraid cerulean eyes. "We will not find it amiss if you hold your weapons against us as well, Sir Yuy."

There was no acknowledgement or response to that last statement as Heero looked away, an almost contemptuous expression flashing across his features before it was gone. "The Sanq Kingdom is known for its _pacifistic_ nature." 

Relena looked at him steadily, but it was Dorothy who answered as she cut in abruptly, "We are realists. We abhor fighting, avoid it when we can. However, we will not hide from an outside threat. Else why would we journey through your southern plains to reach you?" Instead of answering, he spurred the mare forward and she broke into a quick trot to the front of the line, passing both of them to take his place by Wufei, only one sharp, unintelligible word spoken between them before they entered the City Gates. Dorothy watched him go silently, then dropped back a few steps to speak to Relena privately.

"No _overt_ hostility, hmm, Captain? As such, it is a strange welcome." She gestured at the nearing walls of the city, her eyes uncharacteristically grim and sober without the usual sharp derision flashing from her blue orbs. "They prepare more for war than they do for peace." Relena nodded silently as she stared at the ominously silent city. 

The city walls cast dark shadows against the shifting sand and sparse tufts of grass as it loomed over them in an almost sinister air, as if built to fit only the Spartan life-style of its inhabitants. Relena tipped her eyes back warily, taking in the silent guards at the walls and battlements, the gently flapping standard of a black Lion rampant on a field of crimson red without the traditional standard of gold that signified truce flowing beneath it. She sensed rather than saw those of her unit eye each other and the city walls with the same skepticism and disbelief that she herself felt. 

_This_ was to welcome a peace delegation?

"We will keep our eyes open." Relena merely replied, hiding her own misgivings. "I'm posting a guard by your side and at your door twenty four hours a day, foster sib. Odin and Duo will probably ask to be as far away from the ceremonies as possible, so I'll ask them to take a night shift. I don't want to see you hurt." Dorothy raised both eyebrows at that sentiment before abruptly changing the subject.

"I can take care of myself as well as any other. But that's enough about me. What goes on between you and Sir Yuy, hmm? No, don't look at me like that; I saw the fire in his eyes when he looked at you." Dorothy allowed a sardonic smile to trace her lips. "Will we be exchanging heated love letters perhaps?"

"Ambassador…" Relena warned, a slight flush creeping up her neck, but Dorothy only laughed.

"Never fear, I but tease. But it actually would be much simpler for me if you were to fall in love and marry that warrior, I assure you, Captain. Then at least we would have the bond of consanguinity between us. Now, I find myself at odds with these testosterone-oriented males without a sliver of common ground between us." She tipped her head to one side, a slow, feline smile of dangerous pleasure crossing her face. "But then again, what excitement would there be if I did not see a challenge laid on the battlefield, am I right, Captain?"

Relena sighed, feeling the brittle grass beneath her horse's hooves meld into the more secure footing of paved bricks. "Do what you must, Ambassador. I am only here to protect you and the interests of the Kingdom."

"Hmm…true." The wind teased their hair, making silver gold strands entangle with honey-brown before Relena quickly bound her hair into an unobtrusive bun. She grasped the reins in her hand again as Nirobi plodded along, ears pricked as the horse cataloged the new sights and smells of the city with simple interest. After a moment, Dorothy turned back to her Master at Arms, a smile touching her lips. "Are you sure you won't reconsider, Captain?" There was more than a little mockery in Dorothy's voice causing Relena's eyes to snap in vexation.

"Dorothy, I swear, if you weren't my foster-sister…ambassador or not I would-"

Dorothy laughed, the gilded notes spiraling into the wind on invisible wings. "I wondered how long it would take for you to break your formality. I was becoming tired of being called Ambassador and Ambassador Catalonia at every turn!"

Relena allowed a wry smile to cross her lips as she regarded the other woman. Then she sighed, shaking her head in amused capitulation as she shifted her pack across her shoulders. "Next time, just say the words, Dorothy."

"But it's so much more fun to bate you…especially since you are so much like a predictable trout, always rising to the occasion." Dorothy teased then grimaced as Wufei halted, turning to face them with a barely civil mask of displeasure. "Wonderful…well, far be it for me to ruin his petty game, I suppose. I'm sorry, dear sib, but we'll have to continue this…tantalizing… conversation later, hmmm?" Without waiting for a reply Dorothy straightened in her seat, donning her haughty demeanor of bored nobility as she inclined her head lazily. "Yes…Ambassador Chang?"

"We will be holding a formal dinner later in the Main Hall."

"I thank you, milord, and of course, accept. My guards will accompany me, at Captain Peacecraft's discretion." She lowered her lashes, brushing her hair back in the epitome of feigned female bewilderment. "I know so little of such things. Fighting and defending is best left to the soldier's is it not?" She abandoned her indolent position as she leapt nimbly off her horse, caressing Scimitar's flank with soothing fingers. "When do the negotiations begin?"

Wufei also dismounted stiffly, his obsidian eyes bright and alert. "When we have seen to your comfort, Lady Catalonia. The time and place of the…talks, that can be decided later."

Dorothy turned her face into her horse's flank to hide the quick flash of distaste that was replaced by her ever-present smile. "How charming. I thank you for looking after my welfare. Perhaps you can tell us the way to our quarters? We cannot appear before His Excellency…" Dorothy smiled in a self-deprecatory manner, sweeping her hands over her dust-worn travel gown and muddy boots, "…like this. Perhaps an hour to freshen up?"

Wufei nodded brusquely before barking a single order and a female servant immediately appeared at his elbow. "Lord Chang, sir?"

He waved towards the delegates of the Sanq Kingdom in a curt gesture as he turned away. As he strode into the halls, his voice carried back behind him as he snapped, "Show Lady Catalonia and her guards to their chambers."

"Yes Lord." The servant bowed submissively before straightening and bowing to Dorothy. "Lady, Captain, follow me if you will?" 

Dorothy nodded coolly, but Relena shook her head. "Please aid Lady Catalonia in preparing for the feast. My people and I will take care of the beasts first."

The girl jerked up in surprise, then distress as she murmured anxiously, "But Captain, Lord Chang said-"

"Lord Chang obviously hasn't considered the wellbeing of our mounts," Dorothy interrupted dryly, pulling back her silken hood. "The most important rule of any Sanq soldier is that one must never slit his own throat by cutting off his legs. To rule the Heavens, you must first conquer first the earth, and how will one do that if one cannot walk, hmm?" Dorothy flicked back her hair in an absent gesture before turning to the girl expectantly, but the servant looked completely bewildered and cowed. 

"My Lady, I know not of such things. But…but I cannot disobey the orders of milord! I…please Lady, Captain; let me escort you to your room!" Anxiety marred her olive-brown face and Relena took pity on her lost expression but Dorothy just frowned, muttering something under her breath.

"Girl, who, pray, will look to our horses then?" Dorothy demanded pointedly. She frowned coolly and turned her back on the distressed servant. "Think you that I would allow someone other than my Master of Arms to take care of Scimitar properly? Will _you_ groom my horse?" 

Relena saw the look of horror and fear that crossed the younger girl's face and sighed quietly in controlled vexation. 

"Honestly sib, you go too far!" She murmured quietly for Dorothy's ears only. Then she raised her voice, calling, "Quatre, Hilde, please accompany the Ambassador to her rooms. The rest of us will take care of the horses." She glanced at the Preventer unit, which nodded patiently, swinging off their horses, the two chosen Preventers coming to a halt three paces from Relena, bowing first to Dorothy and then towards the flustered girl who stared at them in bewilderment. 

Relena smiled reassuringly at the girl, "Is that acceptable? You are showing Lady Catalonia and her guards to their chambers as Lord Chang has asked."

The young maid hesitated, then bowed slightly, "It shall be as you wish, Captain. Lady, this way please." The trio disappeared into the hallways as Relena watched, Hilde and Quatre carrying the packs. She sighed heavily, tired from the journey and the tension that was already marring the conference before it had begun.

"'Jou-san!" Duo's yell interrupted her thoughts as Relena jerked her head up in surprise, just in time to see Nirobi's ears flatten as he snapped at one of the hostlers. "Your horse is trying to make mincemeat out of the locals, so call him off! He only listens to you!" Duo cantered his livery chestnut around the black stallion, warning the Dominioneers to back away from the horse, which they did quickly. 

"Nirobi! _In'shala__ di'naku Sanq_!" Relena said quickly, grabbing onto the stallion's halter as she put a soothing hand on his cheek. He immediately calmed, lipping the lapels of her coat lovingly before settling into the position of obedience. Relena smiled apologetically at the nervous grooms who approached warily. "I'm sorry. I should have said before that he will accept no other hand but mine," Relena explained. "The rest of the Sanq horses are of like mind, so can you show us the stalls? We can do the rest."

They were shown into the stable, Duo grinning as Deathscythe pranced into the stall, tossing his head arrogantly at the Dominioneers. "Oi oi…I wonder why I got a show off like you?" He asked cheerfully as he began rubbing the sweat from the chestnut's shoulders. "All the other Sanq horses have brains. You have looks…but have yet to show me the intelligence that our horses are known for."

"Like horse, like rider." Odin jibed back and Titain snorted, seemingly in agreement.

Relena smiled as she worked, listening to them bicker back and forth as she finished rubbing off Nirobi, then started the process over on Scimitar. "Maybe if we're together, it will not be as bad, eh, Scimitar-san? It already seems a hard day's work before it has begun." She murmured, flicking the dust and sweat from Scimitar's shoulder. After thoroughly rubbing her down, she swatted the horse lovingly on the flank, making Scimitar roll her eyes in reproach. "Now go feed with Ni-chan. Or he'll finish all the carrots and you'll bite him again." She gave Scimitar a light tap on the hindquarters and stood back, letting the mare pass into the stall before washing her hands clean. "Odin, Duo, are you finished with Hilde and Quatre's horses yet?" She yelled and received an affirmative. "Good, then let's change."

"Aww…penguin suits?" Duo asked uncomfortably, "Jou-san, I'd rather you post me somewhere on the grounds. You know…let the Shinigami skulk around like what he does best." He gave her a grin laden with an excess of charm and agony thrown in for measure as he widened violet eyes pitifully eyes at her. "I mean, we have to be rested to be affective eat night, right?"

"Me too." Odin said quickly, "Preferably as far away from th'Ladies an'Lords as possible, Rel…" He shuddered, "Bowin' and scrapin'…no thank you. I'd rather be facin' a horde of angry Mid-Landers."

Relena laughed, "Well, I do suppose that Quatre would be a better choice since he was born noble and knows all the court functions…"

"Right." Duo quickly injected.

"…and Hilde has more patience than the both of you combined…"

"Yeah, she's th'soul of patience." Odin agreed, half a breath behind Duo.

"So that means you can hide in your rooms like the little cowards you are." She stifled a smile as they cheered and glared at them instead. "_No_ funny business, both of you. Make one mistake and I'll make sure you'll be attending every social function I can find for the next six months."

Duo winced, and the smile faded from Odin's face as they both shuddered. "That's cruel jou-san…that isn't even funny…"

***

Quatre cautiously checked the room for hidden traps, springwire-attachments or spy-holes, running knowledgeable fingers down the sides of the wooden wall before he shook his head. Finished with his check, he turned back to Hilde and Dorothy, propping his bow by the bed stand within easy reach. "Nothing. But I would still be careful." He added, and took the mantle that Dorothy handed to him.

"Oh, and why is that, Quatre? Do you actually suspect our hosts of dirty tricks?" Dorothy asked, a slightly mocking tone ever present in her voice.

Quatre was silent for a time as he folded the ornamental mantle into a neat square and set it on the bed. "Perhaps, Lady." He admitted softly, "I do feel that His Excellency Trieze himself does want reconciliation. I believe that with the aid of the Dominion, we can keep the Mid-Lands from swallowing any more territory than they have already gained. So, this union is beneficial to everyone."

"Except the Mid-landers." Hilde interrupted with a dangerous grin. She twirled a dagger absently in her fingers as she leaned against the tapestry-hung wall, cerulean eyes snapping with dangerous humor. "They, of course, are going to pay for their crimes."

"War is not always the answer." Quatre answered, then smiled slightly, "Perhaps there is a better way."

"Perhaps pigs might fly." Hilde replied, then laughed, at the pained expression on Quatre's face before standing up. "Don't worry, Quatre. I'm teasing. I'm sure some of the conquered countries in the Mid-Lands aren't all that happy either under their thumb."

"Hmm…and if we ally with the Dominion, those conquered territories might flock to our banner." Dorothy added, a feline grin curving her lips, "Weakening the Mid-lands, strengthening us. And we will need _all_ our strength when dealing with the Barton clan, I assure you."

"That bad huh?" Hilde asked.

"That _good_." Dorothy corrected as Hilde took down Dorothy's hair and began combing it. "Their spies, their connections, their assassins, they're everywhere and they're the best. If it takes them five years to infiltrate a country, they'll stay for five years, blending in with everyone, gaining everyone's trust. Then, they'll strike." Dorothy grimaced. "Not even Lady Une has detected a set method to their tactics, nor have we been able to corner any spies in the Sanq Council. The minute they're found out…if they're _ever_ found out…they disappear. Like smoke or dust or…or shadows cut by light. They're versatile, dangerous…well, they're _Bartons_."

Quatre blinked, then shook his head. "That last comment was a strange statement, Lady Dorothy."

"Not so strange if you know who…or rather _what_ the Bartons are." Dorothy answered grimly, shaking her head and Hilde frowned as the silky blonde strands slipped from her fingers.

"Dorothy, I can't plait your hair if you constantly move." She said, annoyance streaking through her voice, but Dorothy only smirked, glancing at the other woman in the mirror.

"How did a Sword-sworn learn to be a coiffeuse? Secret life that we don't know of, hmm?" Dorothy purred back, diverted from the original topic, and Hilde frowned, giving blonde hair an unnecessarily hard tug. 

"Don't even _start_ on that vein, or I'd have to retaliate with how a crazy war-monger like you-" The door creaked open slightly and instinctively, Quatre whirled around, arrow and bow appearing in his hands even as Hilde was unloading her spring-sheathed knife.

The door flung itself open and Relena appeared from the hallway, brushing her hair back from her face. "Ambassador. Duo and Odin are-" Relena stopped, gaze going first to the Quatre's notched bow, then to Hilde's harshly curved dacra, then stopping at Dorothy's half-plaited hair. "I don't think that pulling blades on the first person that comes in will help any public relations," Relena said gently, closing the door behind her and Hilde sighed explosively.

"Captain, there is such thing as a door and _knocking_." Hilde snapped, taking Dorothy's loose strands in hand again. "You just scared ten years off my life." Relena raised a brow but didn't say anything as Quatre unlooped the gut-wire bowstring from the frame, carefully coiling it into a roll.

Relena smiled slightly before she continued, "Odin and Duo are cowering in their rooms right now. Afraid of court functions."

"A likely story." 

Relena coughed, politely ignoring Dorothy's too-accurate barb as she continued, "Later, they'll be on night-watch outside Lady Dorothy's room so we can get some rest. It's been a long ride, and it'll be a still longer night until we can seek our beds."

"And we're babysitting Dorothy in the meantime." Hilde guessed with a grumble as she twisted Dorothy's brilliant hair around her fingers, "Damnit Captain, I'm_ not_ gonna wear a Gods bedamned dress. Put me in one of those penguin suits for god's sakes: the one that's made for the royal guards. Hell, I'll even wear the beret, but _no damn gown_."

"You and Duo are starting to sound very similar," Relena's lips twitched slightly in laughter, causing Hilde to look up from her work, scowling.

"That braided idiot? Don't insult me." She muttered before deftly twisting the loose ends together, tucking the strands away in some invisible fashion. "Now, you're ready. Just change your attire into that sleeveless silver gown with the ice blue shawl and I'll do your makeup."

Relena blinked. "I didn't know you were a makeup artist, Hilde." Quatre choked on laughter, struggling to maintain his composure of quiet serenity, but Dorothy laughed outright as she glanced candidly over at her foster sib. 

"My dear Captain, it would not be wise of you to ask any more questions unless you want a dagger imbedded into you stomach…we have already received like threats." Dorothy teased unmercifully and Hilde's scowl grew darker as she began unrolling the gown out of its protective oilskin, brushing the lint flecks from its shimmering folds. "And then she will yank at your hair with such strength that you will begin to feel the roots loosen from your scalp and-"

"Since when has this become the Festival of Fools? Now get dressed! Or I'll paint your face with enough rouge to make you look flushed from sickness. Then I'll wax your eyebrows and cut them off with garden clippers, and claim that you were attacked by a Mid-Land assassin with little fashion sense, see if I don't." She shook out the gown briskly before tossing it to Dorothy, who grinned as she caught it.

"Mines lips are sealed, my glorious beautician. Without thy skillful help, I would indeed be bereft."

"Shut up!"

"Really…is that any way to speak to your Ambassador, Preventer Schliebecker?"

"I apologize," Hilde said acerbically, in a voice that was decidedly _not_ apologetic, "Shut up, _Milady_ _Ambassador._"

*** 

Fire twinkled vivaciously off the crystal chandeliers, throwing the room into a whirl of light and shadow. It seemed to caress the hard marble floors into a satiny texture and illuminate the lazy, spiraling wood-grains of the ornate baroque styled table with the inlayed gold carvings. Above the head of the long table, a tapestry of a black lion shaking it's wild mane dominated the wall, its head thrown back in a silent cry of challenge. Along the length of the table sat the various councilors and warriors, and in the middle was Treize Kushrenada himself, presiding over the whole meeting.

Relena took a deep breath and glanced quickly back at the rather small Sanq representation, smoothing her features into a façade of cool efficiency. No matter how overwhelming the room was, induced to inspire awe and a heady sense of worthlessness, she and the others had been trained to deal in situations like this. Hilde had stopped fidgeting, hiding her nervousness behind a stony expression of indifference that was not ill at ease, but not _at_ ease either. She herself was feeling more than a little jumpy; gods above, she hated these kind of court functions! Only Quatre and Dorothy seemed completely at home in this environment, waiting with polite patience for Relena to proceed them. 

Seeing everything was in order, Relena turned back to the waiting man. 

"Announce us." She said, more curtly than she would have liked. Gentling her voice slightly, she added, "We're ready." The herald nodded, raising a brass horn to his lips and emitting three sharp notes and the heavy double doors were both pulled open wide. Relena stepped forward first, the Agiel's golden chain dropping from an ornamental collar at her neck and twining loosely around her right arm.

"Commander Lady Relena Peacecraft of the House of Peacecrafts!" She bowed gracefully to the panel, her honey-gold hair falling forward across her bare shoulders in trailing ringlets. Then she stepped to one side of the red carpet and stood at alert as she Hilde's name was called after hers.

"Preventer Hilde Schliebecker, Guardswoman of the Mandalore!" Hilde copied her movements in a slightly more jerky manner before moving to the other side of the carpet, hand resting at the hilt of her blade. Unlike Relena, she had insisted on not wearing a ball gown, opting instead for a Guards' dress uniform almost bristling with white on white embroidery. The threads twined their way through the sleeves of her jacket in an unfurling pattern of leaves and vines and the only concession she made to ease the severe whiteness of her dress were the sparkling sapphires at her ears.

"Ambassador Lady Dorothy Catalonia of the House of Catalonia, escorted by Preventer Lord Quatre Winner of the House of Winner!" Even without turning around, Relena could feel their affect on the crowd. A low murmur swept through the room, the men bending close to each other to whisper and nod slightly towards the pair. Relena stifled a smile; the two _did_ make a handsome pair, but it was more than that. 

They seemed to fill the room with their presence, radiating an aura that bordered on arrogance but with the competence in their identical expressions of aristocratic refinement to back it up. As an Ambassador, Dorothy could not by tradition wear a sword inside the palace, so she wore a long, deadly "ornamental" dagger at her hip instead. Her gown of silver and shimmering blue threads molded her bodice and hips before flaring into a wide skirt, revealing a well-toned body and slender muscles that could wield a four-foot glaive with ease.

Quatre's uniform matched hers, but instead of the ornamental dagger, he wore a full scimitar that gleamed with runnels of azure veins beaten beneath the silvery steel exterior. Around both of his wrists were hidden knife-sheaths bristling with tiny daggers known as Lotus Wasps that would come undone from the sheaths with a simple twist of his fingers. The weapons fit well on him and he carried them with the ease of practice and competency; no one would be able to tell that it had taken both Hilde's and Relena's insistence to override his reluctance in wearing so much weaponry.

Dorothy stepped to the fore, her fingers pressed lightly against the crook of Quatre's arm. With the grace of one bred into her nobility, she sank in a full throne-room curtsy before the court, bowing her head only slightly before she stood up once again.

"You Excellency." The murmurs died down as her voice rang across the room, full of authority that commanded respect. "As a representative of the Prelate and the peoples of the Sanq Kingdom, I thank you for your hospitable welcome into the Dominion and bring you greetings and wishes for your continued well-being."

Trieze rose to his feet as well, bending slightly at the waist before he came around the table to greet Dorothy properly. He raised her gloved hands to his lips before replying smoothly. "As the leader of the Dominion, I thank you for your kind words and accept your Prelate's greetings. I return with them, my hopes for the Sanq Kingdom's prosperity in this new era and extend a welcoming hand to our allies-to-be. May this union protect Our people and Our lands from those that would overrun us."

Offering her his arm, he inclined his head to Quatre who bowed and stepped back from Dorothy, allowing the other man to escorted Dorothy to the dining room. Then, Quatre turned to politely nod to Trieze's consort, Lydia, and extended his own arm to escort her in the traditional changing of the partners. It was supposed to signify the trust that both parties felt for each other when the representative leader was put into the care of the host country's protection. 

_But it's more symbolic than anything._ Relena thought ruefully, eyeing the naked weapons that the guards held as they walked past. _There are so many weapons in this room alone, and all ready to cut us down at His Excellency's whim. Trust has become a thing of past and memory._

The exchange of traditional greetings and dining would take more than three hours; Relena knew from experience that these things were usually long-winded and full of hidden barbs and tests from both parties. Already Dorothy and Trieze were beginning their verbal dance and clever manipulation with words even before the actual congregation sat down to review the treaty. It would get even more abstract once they entered the committee room. 

She relaxed unconsciously into a soldier's half-resting stance, legs braced slightly apart with her fingers folded lightly at her back as she stood at a small distance behind Dorothy's chair. The wall was at her back and at this vantage-point, she would be able to see the entire room all at once to scan for any danger. Hilde, electing to stand at the other end of the table near Quatre, looked frankly bored and disgusted beneath her veneer of polite discretion.

Relena sighed and settled on her heels. It was going to be a long night.

SANQ TERMS APPENDIX: 

_In'shala__ di'naku Sanq_ -easy (or literally: no trouble), child of Sanq(calming command used to indicate a friend or at least, not an enemy. The reversal of that command is _Com'andira__ di'Prelate:_ Fight for the Prelate. Or if one wishes to indicate caution, he can also use the phrase _Shala-kan__, di'naku Sanq- _trouble approaches, child of Sanq.)

Dacra: a dacra is what it sounds like, a dagger. It is specially curved at the end to resemble almost a hook so when dragged diagonally across a surface, the hook will catch and tear into the material. 

Foster sib: in Sanq culture, in order to ensure loyalty and peace in the Great Houses, each House is required to send a child to be fostered out to each of the other houses, so in theory, everyone is related by blood or by foster-bond. In doing so, war can be averted since the bonds of blood-kin and foster-kin are almost equally strong, making for amiable relations.

AN: *Sable grinz* M'having fun with this; I swear, Relena needs more of a fighting role in some of the stories! *poutz and mumblez* Just because she's a _pacifist_ doesn't mean she's weak. _Quatre's_ a pacifist and _he's_ not weak. 

Muse: she's ranting again. Ignore her. I've had to deal with this for DAYS…and then she wonders why I take so many vacations.

Sable: And besides, didn't Heero say that she's the _strongest_ person he knew?! And with all those death threats, you'd think she'd _finally _learned to use at least a gun or something. Maybe a stun prod???

(fifteen minutes later she finally runs out of things to say)

*ahem* Well anywayz, luv ya dearly minna! Here's a little preview on the next part and please review!

Outtake:

His chair slammed backwards, careening into wall with a loud bang. Obsidian eyes glittered furiously and his chest heaved as he drew his breath in. Relena was already on her feet, body interposed between Chang Wufei and his wrath at her foster sibling, but he merely sneered at this new "threat".

"This is a convention of fools and weaklings!" He yelled. He braced his hands on the table, looking at those of the Dominion Convention with a contemptuous eye. "How can we ally ourselves with _them_, these…these _pacifists!_ They talk long and hard, but at the first hint of Mid-land invasion, they will tuck their tails between their legs and flee to the other side! How strong can an army comprised of _onna_ be?" His voice rose above the suspicious mutterings of both his own warriors and the Sanq Preventers, "How can pacifists fight?!"

Dorothy's voice overrode Wufei's, shrill and furious as two bright spots of anger touched her cheeks. "Women can fight as well as any man, you pathetic Lordling! And pacifists fight when our land, our _people_ are in danger! Nothing is more important to us than that! I would gladly give my life in service of the Prelate and my people!"

"Words!" Wufei spat, "Put your sword where your mouth is, Ambassador Catalonia. I assure you, on any field, at any time, I can beat any of these weaklings you call Preventers."

Cat's eyes narrowed dangerously as Dorothy drew herself out of her chair. She trembled with barely suppressed rage as her hand groped for the missing sword at her side. "I'll fight-"

"Unfortunately that is impossible." A new voice cut into the shouting match, calm and authoritative. Relena bowed formally to the committee. "Lady Dorothy, my orders are to make sure that you remain safe throughout this journey."

"Captain, I-"

"Therefore, I am prepared to defend the honor of Lady Catalonia and my unit by the power of sword and steel." Azure eyes swung to clash with dark, derisive glare on the other side of the table. "The choice of weapons is mine." 


	3. Chapter 2

AN: *pounces on readers* O - H - A - Y- O!!!!!!! *dustbunnies purr loudly* hello, minna! This is the next part of "Prelate's War" and dankeshien for ur reviews… =^_^=. N'wayz, twilight, dis is for u! Let the story begin! *pause* well…continue, anyway….

Duels and…Deaths?

He was watching her again.

Relena took a deep breath and forced herself to return his gaze with what she hoped was nonchalant acknowledgement. Unfortunately, she had the feeling that her features betrayed her suspicion. 

__

He's not supposed to be watching me, she thought uneasily. _I'm just the bodyguard. _

She drew on a wellspring of calm to mask the discomfiture that she felt; he _knew_ something was going on and that she wasn't going to give him anymore clues by acting like a guilty child. It had been like this ever since they had arrived. He would follow her every movement with his cold Prussian gaze, standing in the shadows of the draperies or across the room from her, just looking at her as if he could see every single emotion that flitted through her mind. But even Dominion warriors couldn't read minds…could they?

It was unnerving, but he couldn't know anything; he was only trying to intimidate her. That wouldn't work, of course. Drawing herself up proudly, she raised her brow coolly, attempted to stare him down, but the admonishing glare seemed to roll over his shoulders like a cloud of dissipating smoke. It didn't affect him the way it should…was he _amused?!_ He wasn't supposed to be _amused _for love of Inshala! Granted, she never thought that he would be cowed, but…no she must have imagined the flicker in his eyes because the rest of his expression hadn't changed in the slightest. Besides, Dominion warriors wouldn't know humor if it sat on their lap and flapped a rubber chicken around.

__

They'd probably think it was an enemy and take a blade to the chicken. She thought darkly._ And then eat it afterwards. Raw. _

Relena realized that she had a slight glower painted across her face and immediately smoothed her features into a façade of neutral serenity that she had carefully cultivated in all her years at Court. It was her "politician's face" of infinite patience and firm conviction. But she wasn't feeling patient or full of righteous conviction; she felt like a halcyon on the waves of the storm. 

Totally vulnerable.

She didn't like the feeling. Upon realizing that she was uneasy, she had immediately tried to isolate the cause of the problem, weighing each factor with professional objectivity and had come to the conclusion that _he_ was making her feel this way. For some reason, around him she couldn't summon the real peace that usually came with the mask of composure and _no one_ should have been able to crack the mask. Even as a child, she could always find her balance, her inner calm that soothed and counseled her…and he was disrupting _everything!_

Gritting her teeth, she gave him cordial nod, and turned her attention back to the proceeding verbal bantering as Wufei and Dorothy darted words about each other like the quick flicks of dancing rapiers. A quick glance showed that the talks were not going as well as one would have hoped. Dorothy's usual imperturbable front had turned a fine edge towards sarcasm and Wufei's constant jabs about the improbability of warrior women were making this worse. 

Relena thinned her lips, wondering again _why_ Dorothy wasn't more tactful. Instead, she caught Quatre's eye and gave a curt gesture with her hand. 

He closed his eyes in understanding and turned back to Dorothy and Wufei, a soothing smile flitting across his earnest face. "Lord Chang, Lady Catalonia. You are both weary. Perhaps we can continue discussions-"

Wufei stood up abruptly, a set expression on his face as he glared furiously at Dorothy. His chair slammed backwards, careening into wall with a loud bang and his hand immediately went for the sword bound at his waist. Before he had fully drawn a breath in, Relena was already on her feet, body interposed between Chang Wufei and his wrath at her foster sibling, but he merely sneered at this new "threat".

"There will not be any more 'discussions'! This is a convention of fools and weaklings!" He growled. He braced his hands on the table, looking at those of the Dominion Convention with a contemptuous eye. "How can we ally ourselves with _them_, these…these _pacifists?_ They talk long and hard, but at the first hint of Mid-land invasion, they will tuck their tails between their legs and flee to the other side! How strong can an army comprised of _onna_ be?" His voice rose above the suspicious mutterings of both his own warriors and the Sanq Preventors, "How can pacifists fight?!"

Before Relena could calm the situation with a word or action, Dorothy's voice was already overriding Wufei's, shrill and furious as two bright spots of anger touched her cheeks. "Women can fight as well as any man, you pathetic Lordling! And pacifists fight when our land, our _people_ are in danger! Nothing is more important to us than that! I would gladly give my life in service of the Prelate and my people!"

"Words!" Wufei spat, "Put your sword where your mouth is, Ambassador Catalonia. I assure you, on any field, at any time, I can beat any of these weaklings you call Preventors." 

Relena felt anger bubbling within her, breaking amber droplets across the surface of her cerulean eyes although her face was as imperturbable as ever and the rest of her unit rattled their weapons restlessly. She clenched the Agiel in her hand until the chain cut into her palm, then stood up slowly to her full height. Dorothy, too looked completely furious as she drew herself out of her chair with barely suppressed rage. Her hand was groping for her missing saber at her waist and she spat contemptuously on the committee table, pushing her heavy platinum blonde hair from her face.

"I'll fight you, you-"

Relena had had enough.

"Unfortunately that is impossible." Her voice cut into the shouting match, calm and authoritative, causing all eyes to swivel towards her. Relena bowed frigidly to the committee. "Lady Dorothy, my orders are to ensure your safety throughout this journey."

"Captain-"

"However Lord Chang, you have besmirched the honor of both my unit and my Lady and foster sister, thus casting a stain over the Sanq Kingdom that cannot be cleansed without a duel." She drew her satin glove from her hand and let it drop to the marble floor, her azure eyes never leaving his. "The choice of weapons is mine."

Wufei snarled contemptuously, bracing both hands against the table. "Tomorrow morning I will give you your choice, pacifist. And then I will spit you upon my sword like a pig!" 

Relena managed a smile and narrowed her eyes in a manner uncannily like her foster sister's. "Really?" Her tone was as dry as the wind that screamed across the harsh plains, "How quaint."

***

Relena sighed, giving her practice blade a familiar whirl before chopping down once, hard. She glanced down at her sword, watching the silver moon reflect off the cloudy steel. The hilt was shaped in the form of an aquiline bird, spreading its two exquisitely detailed wings that served as the knuckle guard. Its head was thrown back in an ululating cry, as if in defiance of its enemies. It was beautiful, in an abstract and wholly terrible way. For all the careful craftsmanship and subtle artwork of the blade, it was still, and would always be, a weapon.

Something moved at the corner of her eye, and she frowned, in no mood for idle banter. So her voice was notably warning as she said, "State your purpose, then leave." 

There was no answer.

Gripping her sword more tightly, she turned slowly to face the shadows, and saw, as she expected, the Dominion warrior Heero Yuy. He watched her with cobalt-blue eyes that gleamed too brightly in the torchlight and suddenly, she wished that she had not so easily dismissed her unit to act all as Dorothy's escort. She had felt the need to think alone tonight…she had not expected him here!

She took a breath and slowly lowered her sword, unclenching her fist one finger at a time. "Sir Yuy. I had not expected to see you. Should you not counsel with Lord Chang tonight?"

"Why?" His answer was rhetorical and the tone of his voice implied that she was foolish for asking such an inane question. Chang Wufei was a master at sword's play in his own right; he would not need the counsel of another, no matter that they were both warriors. Unwillingly, she felt flush creeping through her cheeks and lowered her eyes, biting her lip so as not to snap in reply.

"Indeed, why." Turning her back on him, she raised her sword and began to slice the air neatly around her, imagining her opponent's moves. Pivot, spin, thrust, slash. It was a dance that she had learned long ago and had mastered. But under his eyes, she felt self conscious, and she saw that the sword trembled in her hands. If only he would leave!

"Why are you fighting tomorrow?" His voice cut across her concentration again, flat, monotonous, without the slightest accent of curiosity. "No one would think less of you if you yield."

Relena fumbled in her third strike as she turned incredulous cerulean eyes on him, almost dropping her sword altogether. "No one would think less of me? _I_ would think less of myself, Sir Yuy! I do not know how it is done here, but I am a Preventer, the elite guard of the Sanq Kingdom. I do not _yield_, as you say." Relena looked back up at the stars, as if she were speaking to them or herself, perhaps. "It would shame my people..."

"Your people?"

"It would shame me! The warriors of Sanq have their honor even if those of your country think otherwise!" Stung by the implied criticism in his bland query, she gave him a slight jerk of her head, and sheathed her sword. Spinning on a heel, she walked from the courtyard only to feel his fingers loosely encircling her wrist, pulling her to a stop. She stiffened, but her voice was calm, controlled, as she said coolly, "Release me at once, Sir Yuy."

Heero said softly, "He means to kill you."

"If he can, then he deserves my blood." Relena replied. A grim smile thinned her lips making her look old and world weary, "I submit that Dominion warriors are strong, but as I have seen your style of fight, you have never bothered to see mine, giving me the advantage tomorrow." Her smile grew wider, perhaps even a little bitterer, "After all, I am only a weak Sanq pacifist…how could I possibly defeat a Dominion warrior?" 

"You could have used your other weapon." He countered quietly, "The one that Wufei does not know how to use." When she looked at him with blank confusion, he reached forward, lifting the golden chain about her neck with his forefinger. 

Relen jerked her head back, letting the chain fail back against her chest. The first beginnings of anger touching her face as she snapped, "What do you take me for? A _zegal? _To do so would be unfair to him for he has never seen the Agiel used. I might as well take a blade to his back for it would be the same thing! What," She spat the word, "justice is there then?"

His face inscrutable, he continued ruthlessly, "And if you die-"

"I do not plan to." She caught his eyes squarely, steadily. "I do have a mission to accomplish after all. Now, Sir Yuy, I request that you release my hand."

He did, but moved around so that he faced her. Carefully and precisely, he bowed, placing his fingers lightly over his chest. She stared at him, uncertainty making her stand rooted to her position, and he raised his head, his features once again shuttered by indifference. But there was a softer light to his eyes, and suddenly, he did not look all that intimidating. He close proximity was doing wonderfully well in shattering her nerves however, causing her to step back nervously.

"Position your sword an inch higher than you are. Your guard is too low, Lady Peacecraft."

And then he was gone, leaving her more to think of than swords and death.

***

The day shone dully, the gleam of the sun masked by clouds that drifted lazily across the sky and Relena rubbed her bloodshot eyes. She had not gotten much rest the day before; Yuy and pre-dawn stressing, had both made her nervous and jittery. And those nerves were going to get her killed, or at least severely injured in the duel. Closing her eyes, she initiated a mental calming technique, laying both palms flat against her thighs as she breathed in and out slowly, counting her heartbeats. She let the world recede from her even as her other senses expanding, taking in the soft sound of feet going past her and the distant whinny of the horses stamping their feet restlessly. Beneath her, the sands of the practice yard were steadily warming and she felt the heat of the sun tap playfully at her face, drawing forth beads of sweat.

A voice grated against her focus, bringing her back to the real world and she glanced up into concern-filled green eyes. "Ready, Capt'n?" 

"Not really, but who ever is?" Relena asked and tried to smile, but the lines around her mouth and eyes betrayed her tension. Odin opened his mouth to argue but Relena forestalled his objections with a shake of her head. "Don't. I can't be distracted."

Grabbing her sword, she shook the sheath free, leaving it to thump on the ground as she got to her feet. Her face was emotionless, but not so with her eyes; they shimmered with uncertainty and another emotion that she could not or would not name. Perhaps…fear?

Relena tightened her lips, her face pale and set as she turned to her second in command. "Where is Dorothy?"

He jerked his head up once, nodding to the stand where she sat with Quatre on her right and Trieze on he left. Relena nodded, turning her attention back to inspecting her sword.

"Patrol the grounds. Make sure that the Ambassador is safe at all costs." She ordered calmly, "I leave it to you to bring the Preventors safely out of the White Fang Dominion." _Should I fail. _The unspoken words hung between them like a lodestone and Odin winced. Ignoring the turmoil in his eyes, she snapped salute, gazing levelly at him until he returned her gesture, albeit reluctantly.

Reached out a hand, he gripped her shoulder firmly, almost painfully, but she barely noticed as he bent near her ear. In a hoarse whisper, he said, "Don't be stupid, Cap'n. Let th'bastard make th'first mistake."

"His first mistake," She replied softly, "was to not take us seriously." She watched him talking with his warriors, a smile of contempt flashing once or twice in her direction. She smiled meditatively, "He will eat his words."

Then gently dislodging his hand from her shoulder, she turned and walked towards the center of the ring, raising her sword in a formal salute. The _ramadal_, dressed in red and black, acknowledged her, calling, "Challenger Captain Peacecraft of the _Sanq_ is ready." Relena fought the urge to glare at him for that slight nuance in his voice that had the Dominion warriors chuckling maliciously.

Wufei tossed off his white mantle, signaling his readiness as well. Up close, she could see the slender muscles of his arms, and the coiled grace in which he carried himself. He would use speed, she guessed, and his sword was heftier than hers, which would make it slightly more unwieldy but more powerful.

"Bow." 

Relena obeyed, lowering her body, but Wufei just sneered coolly, "I will not take this fight seriously. She is a pacifist and more, nothing but a _woman._" Relena clenched her fist so hard that her nails gouged into her skin, causing her palms to bleed before the match even began.

__

I will not let his words get under my skin, She repeated silently to herself._ I will _show_ him the error of his words. I will make him believe._ She raised her head and commented softly, "You do your rank no honor, Chang, with your propensity for the dramatic."

"Keep your notions of honor to yourself, onna." Wufei retorted curtly, "and raise your sword if you dare."

Silently, Relena saluted him, touching the tip of her blade to her forehead before dropping to a crouch. Her eyes never left his as he took up his own stance, bringing his left leg forward. The _ramadal_ nodded crisply, then moved out of the way of the combatants before yelling, "Fight!"

Instantly, Chang dove for her midsection, swiping his blade horizontally in an effort to finish this match quickly and probably fatally, but Relena had been anticipating that and blocked vertically, turning his blade away with a sharp clang of metal on metal. Then, she flipped her wrist and sent her sword a hair's breath away from his face, causing him to stumble back.

"A child's trick!" He yelled furiously but Relena merely smiled, readying herself. That child's trick had nearly worked.

Quickly, she launched forward in a series of jabs that forced him on the offensive but he took the blows easily, almost as if her attacks were nothing but the light brush of butterfly wings. The grace of his actions wasted no extra movements, each block was exactly where it should be without any extra swinging and Relena realized suddenly that he was trying to tire her out by allowing her to attack first. Her breath was already coming in ragged pants but he didn't even seem the least bit winded. 

__

He's much stronger than I am…I must finish this quickly. 

Reversing her grip, she brought the sword downwards, causing the blades to skid off one another as blue sparks fell to the ground. She shook the sweat out of her eyes and in that split second, he dislodged his saber from hers and threw himself forward. The steel edge kissed her cheek, opening up a thin line of blood before she could parry and she hissed, ignoring, for the moment, the pain. A few locks of her hair fell to the ground, golden coils that she did not have time to mourn because he was already attacking, taking advantage of her unbalanced position to bring his sword sweeping towards her kneecaps. 

She swung downwards with all her might, the impact jarring her arms painfully, then continued on with the second phase of the Crescent Moon drill which was to swing the sword upwards again to cut at his exposed neck. She grinned, briefly feeling the adrenaline high course through her veins. 

This wasn't as bad as she had previously expected…she might win this bout yet! 

A flash of steel caught her eye, one that was not the product of Wufei's sword and with the instincts of a bodyguard, she dropped her sword to push him out of the way. He stumbled and fell onto his back with a snarled curse. 

__

What the hell-

Suddenly pain exploded in her mind, a line of fire that started from her the back of her hand to her shoulder and she muffled a scream, staring dumbly at her arm as blood welled from the wound, spattering the dust beneath her. Her gaze traveled to Wufei's face, which was white with horror as he first looked at the silver dart imbedded in the dirt where he had been standing, then at the bloody tip of his sword. Thinking that her actions had been a deception of some kind, he had gone on with the battle, bringing his blade upwards before his mind had any chance to register that she no longer held her own weapon.

For a second, Relena stared down at him, shock and accusation warring with the pain in her eyes. She swayed slightly as if she was attempting to stay up from sheer will, but exhaustion and blood loss were catching up to her and she slumped to her knees, gripping her arm numbly. Arms encircled her waist, preventing her from completely falling and she stared at the anguished sable eyes in dazed wonderment. Why did Chang look so tortured? He had won after all…had she been too slow to push him out of the way?

"Dai…" Gray was invading the edges of her vision and she shook her head in a futile attempt to keep herself lucid. "Daijabou, Chang-san?"

But she never got to hear his answer. Unconsciousness had come to embrace her like an erstwhile lover and she slumped into its silky fold, grateful as the pain ebbed and flowed away like water out of an urn.

Tbc…

AN: *sweatdrop* aie…gomen, minna? . But *cough* yeah…now, okay, I know that this is _kinda_ a cliffhanger…but…but…Twilight, you can't say anything!! You gave us three or four in a row!! N'wayz, I'll try to finish the next chapter soon, but I have like four fics going (this one, two CCS ones, and a Weiss Kreux fic).

Shout outs go to:

Chipmunkcheeks: *laughs nervously* don't give them ideas of death threats, onegai…I don't want to die just yet

Lillia Karasu: ^____^ I hope u like this chapter…did you get the author's alert? (well , my version, anywayz…) 

Kristine: yeah, it changed…but u haven't read this part yet, ne?

Meio-chan: ^_^ tee hee…Rel-sama did fight Fie-chan…she didn't exactly win, that's all…-_-;; 

Silver Wing: Thank u for your review…^_^ It made me happy…I hope you liked this part!

Mama-sama: here's the next chapter, I'll put a little Hilde x Duo in the upcoming chapters for u!

Goldberry: *shrinks away* ok…gomen nasai, twilight, but really, u can't say anything! Remember all the cliffs ur readers fell from? It was like constant ow ow ow…. and when is the next part to your fic coming out!!??? *screams* YOU CAN'T LEAVE US THERE!!!

Ley: *hugz back* luv ya too! And if I scrap the story now, I think I would have at least one person threatening me with permanent extinction, lol.

Thanks for reading! Your support keeps me writing and continuously wracking my brains, =^_^= I'll try my best to come out with the next chapter post haste, but I have three other chapters for three other fics to write…not to mention homework and college essays (WHY DIDN'T UCLA SEND OUT THEIR PORTFOLIO REQUIREMENTS SOONER????) and crap…:P Luv ya'll and I hope you liked!

Sanq Dictionary:

Inshala: Goddess of Mercy

__

Zegal: mercenary, one without honor

__

Ramadal: one that judges ceremonies/duels


	4. Chapter 3

AN: Gomen for how long it took to get this out, but I've been a wee bit busy, if you know what I mean. BUT…I finished my finals! FINALLY!!! *throws confetti into the air* Hah hah! YES!!! *Dances around with my Dustbunnies…* yay!! 

Okay, now I've gotten that out of my system…enjoy!

__

Murderers

Duo stared in horror as his commanding officer slumped to her knees, her face twisting into lines of numb agony and bit off a curse, savagely pushing his way through the crowd to get at her. Unfortunately, he was not the only one that had that idea. A sudden scream of fury from the other side of the arena showed that Hilde had already unsheathed her knives causing the Dominion warriors in front of her to scatter. They pulled out their own weapons, swords that shown blue fire in the cruel rays of the sun, but Hilde didn't give a damn about them, shoving them roughly aside or bowling men down as she swept past.

__

Oh shit…

Recognizing the murder in her eyes, Duo ran to intercept her, just as she stumbled into the circle, a feral snarl at her throat. Her eyes, normally a placid cerulean, had gone bright amber in her fury and she was glaring at Wufei as battle fever contorted her face into a mask of death. 

"Get out of the way, idiot!" Duo yelled at the Chinese warrior and blocked Hilde's downward thrust towards Relena's attacker, nimbly giving the long, awkward weapon a quick spin to throw the slender woman back a little. But Wufei just sat there numbly, cradling Relena in his arms as carmine seeped down his pristine white shirt like the dying colors of a rose's last bloom. Relena's face was getting paler in a direct ratio to the blood she was losing…and there was so much blood…

Forcing himself not to think of it, Duo turned to Hilde who still glared at Wufei murderously in berserker rage and held out his arms to her in a gesture of appeal. "Hilde…" He coaxed quietly, "It's Duo…"

She spat in response, never taking her eyes off Wufei's face, but Duo and his scythe were always there, hindering her every time she moved. Dimly, Duo could hear Dorothy shouting imperative orders to Quatre and yelling for Odin as she ran down the flight of stairs from the balcony. The Dominioners stood like silent sentinels, cold, watchful, but a few of them had already broken from the crowd to kneel by Relena, and someone was tearing cloth to make a makeshift bandage to bind the wound. There was nothing he could do for Relena…he was no Healer. So Duo focused on his partner, his friend, talking to her gently as she stalked around Relena, trying to get past Duo's defense.

"Hilde! Listen to me! Rel's going to be okay, do you hear me?" He blocked her attack with the rod of his scythe then to her complete surprise, flipped it around to pull her roughly against him. Her sounds of fury were smothered against the cotton of his shirt as she struggled to free herself from the scythe that held her to him and carefully, he pulled her closer, the circle of his arms replacing the weapon at her back. She tried to push back far enough to use her knives, but her arms were firmly pinned at her side, and he soothed her, hugging her gently. "Hilde…it's okay. Come on babe, this isn't the girl I know…"

"Sonafabitch!" Her voice was harsh as she pushed against him but Duo took this as a good sign that she was remembering herself enough to speak. If only she would calm long enough to touch her human side again…

Amethyst eyes snapping in determination, he whispered quiet, soothing words in her ear as she fought at him like a caged animal, fighting his warmth, fighting her rage, until her fury wore down in the face of weariness. Slowly, almost reluctantly, she stilled in his arms, leaning her head against his shoulder in frustrated exhaustion as her breath came out in ragged pants. Without resistance, her twin blades clattered to the dust floor and finally she looked up, confusion swirling amidst the panic in the depths of her blue gaze. "Duo…?"

He tried to grin but it only half worked as because his voice cracked unmistakably as he answered, "Damn babe, you scared the shit outta me. Remind me not to get you in a bad mood in 'that time of the month', if you know what I mean."

She shook her head, trying to clear the last of the mindless violence from her head then began to struggle again, this time in desperation and fear. "_Inshala_…what have I done?! Lena-!?"

Duo allowed her to move past him, but kept an arm protectively around her waist as she threw herself to her knees, grabbing one of Relena's limp hands. The Dominion warrior glanced at her warily with cold Prussian eyes, but when she did nothing to hinder him, he went back to work, wrapping the bandage tightly to stem the crimson flow that marred her pale skin. 

Her face ashen fear, Hilde whispered hauntingly, "I didn't-"

"No!" Duo denied emphatically. He glared coldly at Wufei but the man was still in shock as he stared down at his own bloody hands so Duo held his tongue as he continued, "'Jousan got hurt in the fight. You didn't lose control until afterwards."

"All I remember…was…was her falling…" Hilde murmured. "And I knew I had to get to her…because it's my job to protect the-" She glanced at the Dominion warriors warily, "-the Commander. And then…and then…Duo, I can't remember!" She looked despairingly at him, "What did I do afterwards?!"

He put a hand on her shoulder, shaking her firmly to stop the return of her panic. "You knocked out a bunch of the stiff-necks warriors and charged into the ring. Then you went after Mr. High and Mighty over there with a pair of daggers," Duo said with a sickly grin, "For some half-assed reason, I decided that he would be better to us alive, so I saved his worthless life. Now that I think about it, I shoulda let you go at him." A little of Hilde's color returned to her cheek and she let out a shuddering sigh, gripping Relena's fingers more tightly. 

"Move out of the way, _now!_" Dorothy's voice cracked sharply over the din of the crowd and with no semblance of dignity at all, she shoved them roughly aside, her eyes narrowed into cold slits. Her platinum locks whipped around her flushed face, freeing themselves from the loose chignon at her nape and she glared coldly at the Dominion warriors before entering the arena in a swirl of silver and black skirts.

Stripping her gloves away, she knelt Hilde's side, ignoring the dust that settled on her expensive dress. With careful skill, she touched the line of Relena's arm, frowning to herself as her sensitive fingers felt the awkward angle that signified a break in the bone. Without looking at Hilde, she asked commandingly, "Preventor, are you well?"

"Ma'am." Hilde nodded crisply and she seemed to take strength from Dorothy's self-assured confidence. "What is your order, Lady Catalonia?"

"Find Odin Lowe. Inform him of the situation and advise him to explore the southwest gate of the palace to find the perpetrator. Quatre was able to spot the disappearance of a hooded figure from the scaffolding of the structure and loosed a shot. He believes his arrow was on target. I however, will not allow chance to cheat that man of his fate; he _will_ be brought to justice by nightfall or I will have a reason why." Hilde nodded again and with a lingering glance at Relena, she disappeared into the crowd.

"Maxwell."

"Command me, Lady." There was no hint of sardonic humor in Duo's voice as he snapped to attention, his normally devilish expression unusually remote. 

"In my room is my medicine bag, my bone setting kit, and a vial of _krisanth_. Bring it to Commander Peacecraft's room immediately and await us there." He saluted quickly and Dorothy turned her ice-cold gaze on Wufei, then just as quickly dismissed him with a contemptuous flash of the eyes before she glanced towards Heero. "Lord Yuy, I, obviously cannot carry Lady Relena on my own and Quatre still plays his game of hide and seek with this would-be murderer. Therefore, carry her and follow me." 

Without waiting for him to answer, she roses to her feet, magnificently ignoring the dirt that clung to the fabric of her dress and made her way to the guestrooms of the Imperial Mansion, not quite at a run. In front of her, the throng parted like a sea, standing respectfully, or perhaps warily, back from the arrogant Sanq diplomat, somewhat bemused by this imperious _female_ in their midst. Heero stared with narrowed eyes at Lady Catalonia's departing back but nonetheless rose, cradling Relena gently in his arms as he turned to follow.

Before he left he paused, looking down at Wufei and a flicker of pity flickered across his impassive face. "Wufei…"

The man didn't look up at him, but his voice was ominous and quiet as if he was replying to some unspoken accusation. "I let my anger get the better of me, and if the woman dies, I will bear forever the shame of this twice made life-debt…once because she has saved my life from an assassin's knife, twice because it is I that spilt her blood after owing the first debt." 

For a second more, Heero stood over Wufei, not saying anything. Then he walked away rapidly, leaving Wufei sitting quietly in the dust with his sword, victorious, yet in his victory, bereft. 

***

Dorothy barely acknowledged Duo as she ran into the door, hands already rummaging through the black bag to pull out a packet of _bloodsbain_, bruising the pungent leaves between her fingers. She tore off the bandages, packing the wound firmly with the leaves and Relena roused enough to moan in protest as the antiseptic quality of the herb. 

"_H'shala _Relena." Dorothy crooned softly to her foster sister as she tried to stop the bleeding, but dark carmine still leaked through the gray green of the leaves, turning it a muddy oxide brown. Relena shifted, beads of sweat trailing down her high cheekbones to mingle with the dirt caked in her hair and translucent skin. She whimpered feebly, not quite awake but still conscious enough to feel pain so Dorothy glanced sharply at Duo, nodding her head to the vial that sat on the mahogany counter next to the bed. "Maxwell, the _krisanth_."

Duo picked up the silver blue bottle and knelt by Relena's side, trying to keep her head still, "Jousan…drink, onegai..." 

But she tossed her head as he tried to dribble the liquid into her parched mouth, causing the _krisanth_ to slip down the side of her cheek and stain the buff pillow beneath her light lavender. Duo growled impatiently, catching her chin and trying to force her to stillness, but perversely, that caused her to resist even more. She struck out blindly with her hands and feet, crying out even those slight movements sent pain coursing up her arm, and Duo stumbled back from her flailing limbs, swearing under his breath.

"Shit-"

"Maxwell, keep her still!" Dorothy ordered sharply, and she threw her upper body over Relena's to keep her convulsions from jarring the broken arm any further.

"Yeah, I know! Wanna tell me how?!" Duo snapped back sarcastically. Before Dorothy could come back with an equally snappish reply, Heero moved forward fluidly, plucking the aquamarine bottle from Duo's fingers and pouring half of it into his own mouth. Violet eyes flared dangerously as the Dominioner shouldered Duo aside, firmly grasping Relena's face with one hand and her arm in his other to keep her from hitting him. "What the he-?!"

Ignoring Duo's outburst, Heero bent down and firmly pressed his lips to hers, forcibly opening her mouth to receive the sedative. Relena arched her back in a final futile attempt to resist but the pooling liquid at the back of her throat forced her to instinctively swallow. He kept a grip on Relena's wrist and mouth until the bitter taste of the medicine was gone and her body finally went limp on the bed. Only then did he finally lift his head, nodding curtly at Dorothy to finish setting the bone. 

She wasted no time, mixing water with the powdered cement and shaking the resultant mixture to give it an even consistency. Grabbing her brush, she carefully applied the concoction on the fresh bandages that covered Relena's sword arm from shoulder to wrist, making sure that it dried evenly. When it had hardened into a shell-like caste around the wounded arm, Dorothy sighed, slumping back wearily against the leg of a nearby table. 

A faint smile touched her bloodless lips and Dorothy touched Relena's fingers lightly with her own, murmuring more to herself than anyone, "_Inshala _bless…you will yet use this arm sib…and for more than wielding a loveless blade."

Raising weary azure eyes, she reluctantly turned to thank the taciturn Dominion warrior when she realized that sometime between his help and her finishing, he had already left the room. Well, that was fine; this was his land and he could go where he pleased. That was not what had disturbed her. The thing that unnerved Dorothy was that she, who had been trained against assassin, thief, and silent spy, had not heard the warrior leave.

***

Heero strode down the corridor rapidly, cobalt fire flickering in his implacable eyes. He was angry and his clipped walk and clenched fist were all that were needed to show that fact eloquently. How could he be so careless? How could an assassin penetrate the guards placed at the gates and walls of the Imperial Palace? Even yesterday, he would have said it was impossible…obviously, he had just been shown that his overconfidence was misplaced. Not only had an intruder entered the gates of the city, he was here, within the very walls of the palace. And he, who should have anticipated such an intrusion, had not, putting innocent lives in danger. 

Men rushed past him, congesting the narrow stone halls of the guest wing and the candles flickered uncertainly in their holders, throwing strange, writhing shadows and light across the windowless passage. Ominous silence seemed to hang in the stillness of the air…disturbing. He looked up as he heard swearing and saw two of the Sanq Preventors heading towards the rooms, one leaning heavily on the other and clutching his side.

"What happened?" He demanded and the blonde, _Quatre Winner,_ one part of his mind thought distinctly, glanced up at him in weary greeting but he was not the first to reply.

"Son'fabitch!" Odin swore fiercely, "That damn son'fabitch came at me w'tha knife!" Crimson welled from between Odin's clenched fingers and he glared at it accusingly as if faulting his body for betraying him. Then he scowled at Heero, snarling, "I'd almost had 'im and he got away, th'bastard…"

"Did you see his face?" Heero asked impatiently, but Odin shook his head, frustration lining his features.

"'E 'ad a hood on, couldn't see past it 'cept for that he had blasted green eyes…but he was damn fast, like _Dashva_ on his silver wings…got me 'efore I could even react. " He chuckled bitterly, "_Noirell_ take his soul…I _had_ 'im…" 

Heero nodded once sharply and moved aside, allowing them to make their way to the chambers. As he continued on his way, a tingling warning chilled his spine, causing him to stop, hand straying to the cold steel hilt of his sword. Moving his head slightly, he looked behind him with narrowed Prussian eyes, then relaxed as he saw the prowler.

"Nanashi."

"Heero." The other warrior greeted softly, and detached himself from the shadows with catlike grace. His inscrutable eyes were flecked with gold and olive in the dancing flames and he tilted his head slightly to one side, querying softly, "News?"

"Lady Peacecraft will live. However, we have yet to find our would-be murderer." Heero replied and bowed curtly to Nanashi. "I will keep you updated of any further developments."

Spinning on his heel, he walked away, leaving Nanashi leaning against the wall, a thoughtful expression painted across his shadowed face. Slowly, he unfolded his graceful hands and touched his cheek lightly with his fingertip before letting his emerald eyes travel the way that Odin and Quatre had gone, a strange, troubled smile flashing across his face.

"Indeed."

Tbc…

AN: sorry, short chapter, but I didn't want to overdo it….^_^ 

So, my fellow intelligencia…given all your background information, who is the murderer? *grins cheerfully* Aww…is it really that obvious? Well, keep your guesses and tell me at the end of the fic if what you guessed was right.

ANYWAY! This is my favorite part…Shout outs go to:

****

Goldberry/twilightshadow: ^_^ as always, you are SO kewl…thanks for encouraging me to write…and speaking of which, when's the next chapter of ur ficcy coming out??!! I'm on tenterhooks here!! *Levels evil-eyed Yuy glare on twilight*

****

Ley: *grins wryly* gomen…you won't know who shot at Rel-sama for quite a while…this ficcy is going through some majorly weird twists and turns soon and I hope the murderer will be a surprise!!

****

Mama-sama: there was a little Hilde/Duo in here…lol, I'm having fun writing Duo parts…he's crazy and hilarious! *evil grin* 

****

Kristine:ROFL!!! ^_^;; sorry K-chan, no it wasn't the original version BUT I had this fun fun inspiration from my _wonderful_ muse (gag) that's going to screw up everything I planned. Don't you love how my mind works??? I actually took time to write down what I was going to do…and now I'm changing anything anyway!!!

****

Chipmunkcheeks: Oi…as one that's usually the threaten_er_ and _not_ the threaten_ee_, I'm going to inch carefully away from you and hide in my closet with my plush Gundam dolls. ;) Well, I hope you liked this chapter!

****

Meio-chan: Thanks for the compliment…I _hope_ it's a little more original…probably not, but I _hope_ right? ^_~ N'wayz, this is getting really fun to write, 'specially since I wanna develop the 1+R aspect a little more…tee hee…I'm a romantic at heart.

****

Silver Wing: Well, in the first chapter, some of the words are taken from a book I read. Afterwards, I've started making my own words by how they sound to me. I'm creating a whole new culture so they have to have original names, ne?? But the Gods and Goddesses are based on the Greek/Roman style: there are a lot of 'em and each has a story! Of course, I write the history/stories that go with the names, but yeah, that's where the influence comes from.

****

Angelic1090: well…I didn't post _soon_ per say, but I posted…lol. Argh, I always feel as if my muse is cheerfully set on 'slow motion'…

****

J.B. Santiago, Amy, Crystal, Ladyamalthea: THANK YOU for your encouragement!! I'm glad you like it, and I hope that this chapter meets your expectations! ^_^ You guys are great!

To all my readers, I hope you like! Thanks for reading and keep watch for the next chapters! Ja ne and don't work to hard, or you'll get headaches and coffee stupors and go around shrilling strange haiku around the school halls…unfortunately, the haiku will have the wrong number of syllables, so that means that you would probably be just talking nonsense…like I am now. 

Lol….take care!

Dictionary terms

__

Krisanth: a light sedative that is steeped in a mixture of opium poppy, light honey, and the petals of the _krisa_ flower which give it its name. 

__

Bloodsbain: herb used to stop bloodletting

__

H'shala: Quiet (usually used for a small child or affectionately)

__

Dashva: God of the chase: it is said that he wears silver wings given to him by his one-time lover, _Nelsis_, an innovative metal nymph that tried to woo him into marriage. He kept the wings but declined the matrimony, breaking her heart so that she forged her soul and body into an unbreakable sword so that she might never hurt again. They say that every time a sword is forged and the hammer rings on an anvil, you can hear her crying to _Dashva_ and mourning her pain.

__

Noirell: Black God (thus _noire_). He is the judge of the dead, although he does not control the entire afterlife, (which is controlled by his twin sister _Istall_) However, misdeeds and good deeds are written in his book and are used as a criteria to judge whether mortal men will reach the Havens (heaven) or the Shadow Lands (hell). However, everyone in the Shadow Lands are eventually given a chance to work free of their debts, and _eventually_ enter the Havens.


	5. Chapter 4

AN: Yeah, I'm changing chapter 4…because I absolutely HATE the chapter that I wrote before. I re-read it…and it pissed me off. It was too cliché. So, I, along with my mighty pen, am changing that be-darned thing. So there. *poutz…then shrugs sheepishly* yeah. N'wayz, this is the rewritten chapter 4 and I think it's a little better than the old version. Okayz, tha's it.

Despite Dorothy's previous optimism, Relena's health steadily worsened; somehow, infection had entered through the open wound, black lines tracing her way up the pulsing veins. Sweat beaded on her brow and fever dreams made her tremble and cry out, calling pleadingly for her absent parents that had long left the mortal plane for the Havens. Lost in memories, and unable to find her way past the pain, she ambled aimlessly in her mind, the periods between fevers growing fewer and farther apart and her eyes opened in lucidity less and less. 

Dorothy bit her lip, almost trembling with exhaustion herself as she carefully spooned water into Relena's parched lips, her vision graying around the corners from days of no sleep. Her lustrous platinum-blonde hair, her vanity and the envy of many ladies, grew lank and oily from lack of care and new lines formed on her face, giving her the appearance of one ten years her senior. Listlessly, yet with the stubbornness she was well-known for, she brought the spoon up again, noticing that her hand was shaking so violently that much of the water splashed into her lap, soaking into the black satin of her gown. She closed her eyes briefly.

__

I don't know how long I can take this…

Suddenly, long, sure fingers curled around hers, supporting the handle, and a familiar presence, reassuring and strong, stood at her back, infusing some of his strength into her, and she opened her eyes wearily to meet a concerned, azure gaze that could have been the twin of her own.

"Lady-"

"I can't get to her, Quatre." Her familiar causticity was missing, the vivacity and life in her had seemed to drain away the past week that she had spent caring for her foster sister until she looked not unlike a walking corpse herself. Hating to show weakness, yet needing his reassurance, she dropped her head onto his shoulder letting his arms steal around her shoulders in a comforting embrace. "She will not speak to me, only to my aunt and uncle; when she opens her eyes, I do not know if it is me she sees."

For a moment, Quatre said nothing to the woman in his arms, carefully weighing his words. "Odin sent for Sally Po, Dorothy. On the third day of Relena's sickness, he cast his messenger bird toward the Sanq Kingdom and replies have returned. She will arrive in the morning."

Dorothy stiffened, "Sally!?" There was indignity in her voice and for a second, her old spirit lit briefly. "What can she do that I cannot-" Then just as quickly, the fight left her and she sighed, defeated as she corrected herself simply, "No. No, Odin is right; I do not have the skill for this and I trust none of these so-called medics of the White Fang with Relena's life." 

Her crystal blue eyes flashed contemptuously as she recalled the rotund little man that had tried to give Relena a purgative to 'clear her of her bad spirits'; Relena, who already suffered from intense dehydration and malnutrition as the fever burned her extra fat storage away. Fools, if the fever wouldn't kill her, their _tender _administrations would! And she could not stay awake always to make sure that none of the Palace quacks came near Relena, she was at the end of her endurance as it was and could do no more without making mistakes. Leaning back against Quatre, she murmured reluctantly, "No, I cannot do this…Sally it must be."

Quatre looked down on her, reminding gently, "Sally is professionally trained to be both surgeon and medic, Dorothy. You are not. You cannot blame yourself for not knowing all the arts of healing as well as warfare and diplomacy."

"But she is my sister!" Anguish laced Dorothy's voice, pain that was usually hidden in beneath her sharp wit, "My sister in all but blood, she has guarded and protected me always! And when she needs me now, I can do nothing!" 

"She is alive now, Dorothy, and this is your doing." Quatre pointed out. "You have been here for her as she would have been here if your positions were reversed and you have done your best. Tomorrow, Sally will come to take your place and you will be able to finally sleep as you could not." His eyes strayed towards the discarded bottles that lay at haphazardly at Dorothy's side, all of them empty of their former liquids_. _"You have taken enough _ril_ to kill an ox, Dorothy; it is amazing that you have not yet felt the toxins and continue to work."

"I had to stay awake," Dorothy sighed wearily, almost painfully, "and _ril_ is a good stimulant…for a while. It allows me to forget my weariness. But my body cannot handle this stress of sleeplessness much longer…I can feel the ache in my hands as if they would fall from my wrists and I do not believe that I can stand from my chair for my legs do not move at my will."

"Then sleep." Rising with graceful efficiently, Quatre piled furs by the fireplace, the warmth of the flames flickering in an enticing gold against the shadowed pallet. "I will stay and guard over both you and my Lady Captain as you rest. All will be well until morning and Miss Sally will be here then." Dorothy's wavering expression yielded and she rose unsteadily to her feet, stumbling from weariness and would have fallen if Quatre had not caught her and led her to the makeshift bed. She collapsed into a boneless heap, too tired to be graceful and was asleep as soon as her cheek touched the furs. She did not feel the woolen mantle that Quatre draped over her nor feel him arrange her into a more comfortable position.

When he was assured that both his patients were well asleep, he sat down in the chair that Dorothy had just vacated, taking up the mostly untouched bowl of water. Not bothering to turn around, he asked calmly, "How long have you been there, Duo?"

"Maybe a few minutes. Maybe more." There was a low chuckle from the shadows and an almost inaudible shuffle of lightweight robes. "It's kinda hard to tell when everything's pitch black."

"True." Quatre turned slightly so he could se the outline of the braided man. "Let me ask you another question then, _why_ are you here?"

"Why are you here, Q-man?" Duo countered, "I'm worried 'bout 'Jousan." Quatre smiled lightly as he saw Duo's eyes stray towards the formless figure draped across the pallet.

"And Lady Dorothy as well, it would seem."

Duo snorted but admitted grudgingly, "Yeah, yeah, so I was kinda worried 'bout Miss 'I can Do all, Be all, See all, and Still have time for Tea' over there. But don't tell her I said so, she'll lord it over me for the rest of my life and I'll never hear the end of it."

Quatre chuckled at the too accurate assessment before inclining his head slightly, "As you wish." He paused awkwardly and then asked, a little more hesitantly, "And how is Hilde?"

"What else? She blames herself," Duo shrugged, obviously to Quatre's empathy a little upset. "It's not like we all don't anyway, but you know how she takes this kind of thing, almost as a personal insult. Doesn't help that all the Dominioners are so fascinated with her berserker mode the other day; they keep on challenging her to mock duels as if they're trying to prove something to themselves. Not as if she's not feeling bad enough as it is!" The last sentence was bitten off savagely and Duo's violet eyes flashed in the midnight shadows around him.

"Prove?"

Duo smirked. "I dunno, that they can't be beat by some Sanq pacifist? That a female of our species can't knock them on their ass as easily as any man? Who knows the mysteries ways of the Dominion warrior? Hell if I do." He paused again, then some of the anger faded from his face as he added as if inconsequentially, "She's beat most of them down on their asses by the way. You don't really wanna deal with a pissed off Preventor…especially not one of the Mandalore Guard. You get hurt that way. I tried to tell 'em but do they ever listen?" 

There was a marked pride in his voice as if he relished the fact that Hilde was able to win against the Dominion test and Quatre smiled slightly too, his instinctive worry easing somewhat. His smiled dimmed somewhat as he looked down at Relena, each breath shaking her entire body like a harsh gale against a young willow tree, and carefully, he smoothed her hair out of her face, murmuring quiet words of comfort.

She whimpered in response, a high, childlike sound. "Mother?" Forlorn loss tinged the voice of her younger self and she curled in more tightly around the knotted sheets in a semi-fetal position. 

"Mother….Mommy! I'm scared!"

"Shhh…Relena, it's us." Her eyes barely opened before she turned her face away, unseeing. Soothingly, Quatre trailed a damp cloth over her feverish skin, still speaking gently, "You are safe here." He glanced at Duo, who moved closer to sit at her other side, cradling her uninjured hand in his.

"Yeah, 'jousan. We're here. We won't let anything hurt you…"

"There's fire, and smoke…I can't breathe! Help…please-"

"There isn't any smoke, Lady Relena. There isn't any fire here." Quatre comforted, "That's your past, a part of your childhood. You are an adult now, these things can't hurt you any more."

For moments after, Relena didn't make a sound except for her shuddering breathing, in, out, in, out…

"Mommy…?"

"Relena…"

"Why's Papa lying there? Mommy…" There was a long pause, and then she gripped the coverlet more tightly in her hands, her body trembling with pain, both mental and physical. "Why did you have to die?"

*~*

Dawn caste a mulish yellow tinge into the sky, lighting up the cyclone green clouds and gray night air in an ominous array of colors. It was as if true light would not coming with morning today and the scent of rain and wetness hung heavily in the air, blanketing the plains with a sort of brooding silence for not even the snake slithered out from beneath his rocky shade.

Odin sat motionless on his warsteed, eyes riveted on the far horizon from whence he expected the healer to appear. Titain shifted underneath him in response to his rigid unease, shifting from foreleg to foreleg in a restless, shuffling dance and then tossed his head, blowing air from his nostrils loudly. Absently, Odin put a hand on Titain's neck, quieting the horse before he turned his attention once more to the northern skies. His side still twinged from time to time from the pain of the blade wound of his attacker, but he ignored it for the time being. There were more important things afoot.

He heard the shuffle of muffled hooves behind him and without turning around, said coldly, "Warrior."

"Hn." 

The sound of hoof beats stopped a few paces away and Heero sat motionless as well, his features hidden by the long, folded burnoose that protected his face from the stinging sands. He looked briefly, curiously, towards Odin before turning to face the north as well, his Prussian-blue eyes unsettling in its blandness. For a second, neither of them spoke, as if loathe to break the quiet around them with meaningless words, insignificant and petty. They sat together quietly until unwillingly, Odin glanced at his unwanted companion, pale olive eyes snapping. 

His voice not softening, Odin continued curtly, "Ye've seen my mistress then and ye know that we sent fer th'healer?"

"Yes. His Excellency bade me come greet them."

Odin snorted cynically, "Just as ye greeted us, eh? Your _ambassador_ challenges Rel to a duel, slices through 'er arm, tosses 'er into fever dreams, and ye say this be a greetin' worthy of allies…well, t'is a strange greeting to be sure! Remind me t'give ye the same when ye reach the Sanq." Hostility and resentment wove through his voice in tangible threads and he would have said more but for the distant thunder that rumbled across the grassy plains, drawing nearer.

Rising on his stirrups, Odin looked hard and saw a thin line of dust darkening the edge of the sky and two horses galloping towards them in a smooth, ground-eating pace. Their proud heads were curved back and their manes poured behind them like molten gold, billowing like the clouds themselves. 

"Two riders?" Odin muttered sharply then dropped, closing his knees about Titain's flank, causing the horse to leap forward, thinking rapidly. Lady Une had undoubtedly heard of Relena's illness and sent an extra guard for the healer as well. And at a time like this there was only one person that she would trust to guard both Relena and Dorothy. Self-trained, as skilled in politics and pretense as she was in her position as Sanq's top undercover intelligencia…

Midii Une, Lady Anne Une's eldest daughter.

Calling a greeting across the distance that separated them, Odin raised his arm in a wave, a smile forcing its way across his hard-planed face and weathered features. "Midii! Miss Sally, ma'am!" 

Odin reached forward, gripping Midii's forearm in welcome as he grinned down at the young woman before him. She didn't respond other than to nod coolly, but a small smile that she showed to few flickered in the depths of her slate gray eyes, laden with painful memories and unnamed fears and she returned his grip with equal intensity, before letting go. She glanced towards Sally meaningfully before guiding her horse back a step so that he could properly greet the tall, blonde woman.

Taking a hint, Odin bowed respectfully at the healer, touching three fingers lightly across his forehead. "_Aknavet l'ashralan. _T'is long that we have watched th'hills for yer coming."

The woman smiled soothingly, pulling the beige hood back to reveal a heart-shaped face with warm, competent eyes and mobile, sensitive mouth. Returning the same gesture with two fingers, Sally straightened, allowing him to clasp her hand loosely in his. "Preventor Lowe, I am here, as always, to serve. However, I regret that my skills are needed at all during this mission. Please inform me of the current updates to my patient."

Odin looked up quickly and turned the horses towards the city, speaking rapidly as he guided them across the long tendrils of fern-haired grass. "Miss Sally, t'is welcome ye'are. Lady Dorothy 'as tried 'er best for Rel, but still, she gets sickens. Th'arm is red w'infection and 'er fevers are getting worse. Lady Dorothy fears poison of th'blood but she 'as worked 'erself t'exhaustion, barely sleeping so as t'take care 'of 'er foster sib." When Sally glanced sharply at him, he nodded in brief assent. "She's been takin' _ril_ to stave off sleep, Miss Sally."

"She must rest or the _ril_'s toxinswill do irreparable damage to her nerve endings," Sally murmured, "Does she sleep now?"

"Aye, last night when we received message of yer comin."

Sally nodded once, "And Lady Relena needs my help now." She urged them faster towards the stone city, dismissing Heero's greeting with a quick inclination of her head and a smile. "Dispense with formalities with me, my Lord. I am no Lady." Turning back to Odin, she demanded swiftly, "How much longer to the capital, Preventor Lowe?"

"Soon, ma'am." Sally said no more, lost in thought as she glanced through the medication and surgical tools in her bag to make sure that all was in order.

As soon as they reached the courtyard, she grabbed her black case and hiked the swirling hem of her healer's robe higher, walking rapidly towards a frantically waving Hilde. For a second, she hesitated, glancing back at her lathering horse but Midii had already dismounted, taking both the animals in hand. She glanced at Sally briefly before, a single, laconic word fell from her lips in a crisp command.

"Go!"

Sally wasted no more time, and turned to run into the Imperial mansion, taking the wide steps two at a time as she busily shouted orders to the waiting Preventors that hovered hesitantly at the top of the stairs. They all scattered in her wake like rabbits in the face of a coming typhoon, doing her bidding without question. Heero sat atop Wing, watching silently as she efficiently marshaled the Sanq warriors to do different tasks for her, sending Hilde to find a cauldron from the kitchen and Duo to procure some water from the well. To Quatre she gave a syringe, directing him to give Dorothy a dose of medicine to mitigate the affect of _ril_ before she disappeared out of sight, walking down the long, stone corridors. Soon afterwards, he heard the door open and slam shut, the loud bang causing a few startled birds outside of Relena's window to take flight.

Thoughtfully, he dismounted, leading his horse after the one that Odin had called Midii. Were all women so imperious or was it only those born of the Sanq? And why would a mere healer command so much respect from these Preventor warriors…as a matter of fact, why would she be able to command them at all? Things did not seem to be adding up completely.

How strange.

Tbc.

__

* Ril: a stimulant that induces adrenaline flow to the brain and can be used in the short term to reduce the need for sleep. When used too long, exhaustion works with the drug to make toxins in the body and eventually, the user becomes addicted heavily to the drug or dies

* _Aknavet l'ashralan: _Welcome, honored one

* There are degrees of respect amongst those of the Sanq. Two fingers to the forehead means one of equal rank, three fingers means that the person you are paying respect to is of higher rank than you, four fingers is only to nobility, and five fingers is reserved only for the Prelate herself.

AN: that's that….Don't worry, this does not mean that I'm going to kill Relena now. Although…angst does have its merits…*thinks thoughtfully* hmmm…tee hee. ^____^ love you guys! Sorry for the previous crap-chap! I think this one is a little better and it works with my plotline a bit more. Ah…all my little pawns…er…_characters_ are finally all in place. *smiles evilly* alrighty then!!! 

Major thanx to Kristine, who *ahem* FORCED me to keep on writing this when I wanted to give up and is helping me get everything into order and helping me deal with thousand and one subplots that are just about to begin. -_-;; *mumbles again* I feel so much like a carpet….


	6. Chapter 5 (finally. ^_~)

Chapter 5: We Meet Again.

Sally sat down easily at Relena's bedside, smoothing the lank, sweaty locks of hair away from her face with a careful, gentle hand but Relena hardly stirred but for a brief twitch of her brow and a low whimpered moan.

"Relena," Sally murmured coaxingly, and when the younger woman didn't respond, she whispered, "_Aya kikyo._ It will be all right, Relena." Quickly, with a healer's efficiency, she stripped the pus-stained bandages from the arm, washing it gently to loosen the stubborn stick of the bandages to the skin. The wound seeped, an ugly yellow color that mingled with the red blood and it was plain to see that some piece of infected material had gotten into the wound or perhaps it had not been thoroughly cleaned. Sally bit her lip thoughtfully; the cut would have to be reopened to pry out the foreign object and she knew from experience that it would hurt like _Istall_'s hell. 

The door burst open to reveal a heavily disheveled Duo who was balancing a small black-iron cauldron full of well-water precariously in his arms and without looking up from her patient, Sally ordered sharply, "Put it over the brazier to boil. Duo, what herbs have Lady Dorothy administered to Relena?"

"Um…_krisanth_ and _bloodsbain_. She might have used _ca'liran_ to try to stop the fever too, but I'm not sure." Duo hovered briefly, "Do you want me to ask her?"

"No. The woman is sick with _ril_ overdose; don't disturb her." Sally set her small, healer's blade across the candle and the metal edge burned a light sheen of gold and carefully, she uncorked a small bottle and dribbled a capful of the liquid between Relena's parched lips, massaging her throat slightly with two fingers until Relena swallowed. "Keep the rest of the Preventors from the room. For the record, I've given Relena a dose of _kan'yak_, Duo. It will stimulate certain centers in her brain so she will wake soon after the operation, but she is not to be given any other kind of drug, not even an ordinary pain-killer afterwards! Do you understand? She is not strong enough to deal with anything else."

"Hai." Duo confirmed. He smoothed his fingers restlessly through the coiled plates of his braid before asking, "Is she going to make it through this?"

Sally's lips tightened grimly but her fingers never stopped in their work as she replied, "I don't know. Just trust me and get out of here." 

She heard Duo snap to attention with a succinct, "Ma'am!" and the soft footfalls indicated his retreat out of what was now her domain so she shifted her entire attention to her patient. She sponged of Relena's face and neck with a soft cloth, waiting for the _kan'yak_ to fully take into effect before finally, she lifted the small dagger from the flame, cooling the now-disinfected blade in clean water.

With a mental apology to Relena, Sally took a steadying breath and prepared to cut…just as a strong fist caught her wrist. Her eyes flew up in startlement at the tousle-haired, Dominion warrior that had escorted her party back to the city and a shiver of dread ran up her spine as he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her, his fingers tightening warningly.

"What are you doing?"

"I am, as you can see plainly, opening the wound, Lord Yuy, in order to ascertain the cause of this infection." Sally's voice trembled slightly but her gaze was steady and her own amber eyes slitted angrily although she made no motion to remove her arm from his grip. "If this…whatever it is…is allowed to stay, the wound will fester and the flesh will begin to rot and we will have to remove her entire arm." When he still said nothing, she snapped, "Lord Yuy, do you want to do this?"

There was a brief flicker of revulsion in his ice-cold patrician's features and he shook his head slowly, dropping his hand to his side. Nonetheless, his voice was low and ominous as he stated bluntly, "If she dies, your life is at forfeit."

Sally's brow rose as well and her voice was just as clipped as she said coolly, "I am her liege woman, her House's medic," she clarified when all she received was a blank look. "My family has served hers for more generations than yours has been alive, Lord Yuy, so you need not fear. Now leave! I must work or she _will_ die."

His features did not change in the least as he countered, "I'll stay." The blade buckled at his belt gleamed like molten lava as it reflected the fireplace's glow and Sally's eyes hardened until they were chips of granite as she took in the implication of his words.

"By all means," She said, her lips moving stiffly over the words, "But stay out of my way. If I should be distracted and cut too deep…" Heero nodded in understanding and sat down in one of the scattered chairs, his eyes intent and brooding but he was true to his word and said nothing else. Sally stared at him for a little longer as if measuring his worth, then added albeit grudgingly, "Hold her hand." before she began cutting through the neat sutures of the threads. 

Heero made no response to her sharp order, but out of the corner of her eye, Sally saw his fingers wrap gingerly around Relena's unhurt hand, smoothing across her palm awkwardly, but gently. 

__

Ah…so that is how the trade winds blow. Sally stifled a wayward smile before dismissing him entirely from her mind as her knifepoint encountered flesh. She could feel the instinctive contractions of the small muscles of Relena's arm and bit her lip in concentration as she forced the blade to remain absolutely steady, slicing away the putrefied, swollen tissue. Beads of sweat stood out of her forehead as she felt Relena's tiny tremors shaking against her steadying hand, almost as if she was too exhausted to fully recognize the unmistakable pain. Her fingers twitched convulsively and then relaxed in intervals as Sally probed deeper into the wound, and once, she moaned quietly before falling silent again.

Minutes ticked by restlessly as Sally alternately cut and then blotted the extra blood and pus from the wound with a brandy-drenched cloth, and then—

"What the hell is this!?" Sally jerked her head up to glare at Heero as if it were all his fault before the lines on her face gentled slightly in response to his questioning gaze. He was cradling Relena's hand protectively in both of his and there was a flicker of tension in his impassive face that spoke of more emotion than this warrior was obviously willing to let show. Quietly, she explained, "A part of the armor was pushed into her flesh by the sword thrust. It was missed in the initial cleaning and has imbedded into her muscles."

Carefully she pried away the offending chain mail link, tossing it angrily onto the bloodied cloth before resuming her cleaning of the wound. Finally, clear red blood flowed and Sally sighed gratefully, sitting back on her heels with an exhausted, but satisfied smile on her lined face and delicately, she wrapped a loose bandage across the wound. For a moment, she stared quietly at Relena then nodded her head once, bringing her weary eyes back up to glance at Heero.

"Barring any future developments, she should be fine. I don't want to stitch the laceration closed right now; her blood needs to circulate and clean the wound on its own. Tomorrow, I'll bind the arm with fever moss to draw the infection, but all she needs now is sleep. Sleep _and_ rest, which are two very different things." She rubbed a hand across her forehead wearily, unconsciously leaving a bloody smear across her skin.

Rising to her feet, she went to the steaming water and quickly washed her hands of the gore, rubbing vigorously at her face before she tossed the mangled scrap into the cauldron. She took all her tools, bloodied cloth, and apron and put them in as well, adding over her shoulder, "Don't let anyone touch this. They need to be boiled then washed with alcohol before they can be used again or else they will not be clean. And if they are not clean, they are of no use to me."

She hesitated, then walked to the doorway before she turned and looked into Heero's eyes, her features firm. "I go to check on Lady Dorothy. Stay here. I will get Duo and Odin to guard the door so that none may enter. But you," Sally jabbed at the air between them with one long, well-callused finger, "you make sure no one disturbs m'Lady. Or else." She smiled deliberately and twirled one of her tiny herb-cutting knives with surprising skill before ducking out the door, calling quietly for her chosen Preventors to play guard duty.

Heero dropped his unemotional façade as soon as he established the fact that the medic had indeed left and intently, he listened for any suspicious sound, but nothing stirred except for the soft breathing of the woman whose hand he still held. Her color was still pale, as if the color had been purposefully bleached from her skin and hair as an unwanted pigment. Her hand was lax in his and the fingertips were cold and clammy to touch, even against the continued warmth of his skin and she shivered, instinctively moving further under the heavy woolen coverlet. 

Careful not to disturb her injured arm, which was propped on the stool that Sally had just vacated, he tucked the edges of her quilt in, gently pulling the top up towards her chin, his fingers straying to smooth a silken tendril of hair from her cheekbone. She murmured gently, turning her face so that her cheek was cupped in the palm of his hand and a small, almost imperceptible smile touched his eyes mingling with silent…relief?

He frowned, a small furrow developing between his eyes. Why did he feel…anything…for this woman? He was a warrior, one of Trieze's elite guards and a Dominion to boot. And she was…she was…

His lips tightened as he withdrew his hand, watching her broodingly beneath his tumbledown bangs as, unaware of his scrutiny, she sighed softly in her sleep, the tightness easing from around her eyes. He no longer knew what she was. He had assumed that she was like any other woman, a chattering, interfering "onna", as Wufei had once described all females. He had expected her to be spoiled, haughty, completely absorbed in having men fawn over her, without a wit of original thought in her blonde head. After all, it was…or had been…a known fact that all women were good for was breeding and decoration and perhaps sometimes useful for their 'feminine touch' in the household. They were unsuited to battle, unsuited for any academic profession…except now, these Sanq warriors, these _female _warriors, were forcing them to completely reevaluate these known dogmas; they were the antithesis to everything that the Dominioners had thought they would be. 

Women with strength and honor…is this what they were? It was an old Dominion saying that women could not be trusted with horse, blade, or honor; the first they would kill, the second break, and the third ruin. But this woman, Relena Peacecraft—she obviously cared for the first two, dare he trust her with the third?

He sighed, closing his eyes. That question would not be answered today and it was unwise of him to think of her as more than a fellow fighter to a common weal. With the Mid-Land threat so close at hand, he had to focus only on the upcoming battle, for there _would _be one, and hope that the Dominion would survive this newest attack. This fair-haired Sanq Preventor should have no position in his mind except as a potential ally and if not that, a threat to the Dominion security. It was that simple.

Yet, albeit reluctantly, he found himself cautiously hoping that maybe…perhaps…she could be more than that.

A small noise jolted him out of his contemplation and he glanced quickly at Relena. Her eyes were still shut, but she wore a pinched look around the skin of her mouth and her fingers were clenched so hard that the nails drew blood from her palm. Her body trembled with unhidden tension and she let out a low, inarticulate moan, helpless and anguished as she reached toward some haunting phantom in her dreams.

"No…don't…"

"Relena?" Heero queried softly, half raising to his feet. But there was no response…or at least, there was no response to _him_. Instead, she curled even further into herself, tucking her legs to her stomach in a semi-fetal position and she sobbed once before a mask of anger stole over her features.

"How dare you??" Her voice was shrill, furious and clogged with pain, and she began moving restlessly, "My mother…!"

Quickly, Heero went to his knees by her bed and grasped her shoulders gently, shaking her out of sleep. "Lady…You are dreaming."

"No no no no no! Why the fire, why is there so much…!!!" Relena cried out, almost flinging herself up, her eyes wild and half-crazed with fear as she looked around, her golden hair whipping around her shoulders. Her injudicious actions jarred the injured arm from it's resting position and she stifled a gasp, as white hot pain shot through her in a spear of ice. Weakly, she bent over until her head was resting on her knees and she closed her eyes, waiting until the lance of agony subsided into a dull ache. It was then that she felt someone pushing the heavy locks of her hair away from her face, sure hands smoothing circles across the center of her spine and she allowed herself to be soothed, leaning into his touch. 

After a moment, she raised her head and tried to speak, but her voice was rusty from weeks of disuse and it came out more as a cracked cough than any word. She made a face and swallowed hard once before she whispered hoarsely, "Lord Yuy?"

"Lady Relena," was the brief acknowledgement. Then, as if he anticipated her next question, he answered monotonously, "You have been sleeping in fever-dreams for two weeks now. Your medic, Sally-"

"Sally? Here?" An inscrutable look flickered over Relena's eyes and she sighed heavily, putting a shaky hand to her forehead. "She would be, wouldn't she? Two weeks? It has seemed much…longer…than that." She fell silent then, shadows stealing across her open azure eyes, taking away the sun with remembered nightmares and Heero urged her back into her pillows, pulling the sheet back up to cover her again.

"You must rest."

"But…" Relena bit her lip and shook her head, rejecting the rest of her statement. 

Heero raised an eyebrow and studied her haunted face pointedly before he asked softly, firmly, "But?"

An expression of self-disgust crossed Relena's face and she pressed her lips together before admitting, "I'm afraid." The words seemed to be pulled out of her unwillingly, almost challengingly as if she defied him to scorn her for that remark. But beneath the bravado, her voice quivered slightly and her one good hand clutched at the coverlets until whitish yellow showed against her knuckles, straining skin against ridged bone.

Heero looked quietly at her before reaching out a hand, gently dislodging the mangled sheets from her numb fingers, before answering impassively, "I will stay here."

Relena looked at him, her eyes begging reassurance even as her lids began to droop again, her moment of lucidity already draining her. Comfortingly, he brushed his fingers across her face, smoothing the lines of pain away with the feather-light brush of his fingertips. "Rest, Relena. I will protect you." 

She smiled sleepily at him in response and sighed, her eyelids fluttering shut again. Once she was well and truly asleep, Heero got to his feet and sat back in his chair, gaze fixed on the pallor of her face. He stayed well into nightfall, the promise whispering quietly past barely parted lips.

__

I will protect you.

***

From the doorway, Midii Une watched as the Dominion warrior they called Heero Yuy settled back against the chair, arms folded across his chest and she allowed the tense muscles of her own arms and shoulders to relax slightly. From her observations, he meant Relena no harm. Sally had told her beyond a doubt that he was trustworthy, but she had needed to see for herself the caliber of his integrity; she had never based anything on an off-hand chance. Relying on luck and the goodness of others got people in her profession dead, the first lesson that any spymaster had to learn. 

Silently, she slid the door shut again, so softly that not even he noticed her quiet arrival or subsequent departure and she pivoted on a heel, walking down the narrow corridors of the Imperial Mansion as soundlessly as any feline. However for all her misgivings, Sally's instincts had been right about this man; there was an aura of gentle protectiveness and honor within him that made her instinctively trust him. And her instincts were usually good.

__

Except for that one time…the expression on her face hardened, becoming as revealing as chiseled marble before she ruthlessly pushed the thought away. That was the past. She would never make that same mistake again.

Restlessly, Midii walked aimlessly through the labyrinthine halls, absently taking note of the different turns that she had made so that she would not get lost. This, like breathing, was second nature to her and she did it with the same grace and careless ease as she did everything else. She knew that anybody else that passed her in the dark might well mistaken her for another flickering shadow in the candlelight or perhaps a brief touch of wind against his shoulder, and inwardly, she smiled slightly. It had taken her years to learn to move like this, liquid as water across a pebbled brook. 

It was a skill that she took pride in…and one that had saved her life on more than one occasion. 

She reached the door to the conservatory and curiously glanced through the portal, watching the cool, leafy greenery swaying to the gentle music of the summer breezes. A flicker of light softened her turbid gray eyes, bringing about hints of darker cerulean. It would be good to breathe cool air again without watching the shadows at her back. Quietly she slipped into the open gardens, enjoying the sun that threw dappled light against her face and arms, loosening the gloom of the dusty corridors. She let her gaze wander absently as she traversed the length of grass, almost losing herself in the quiet serenity of it all.

Almost.

The slight crunch of boot heels on grass told her that she was not alone and automatically, she whirled around in the direction of the approaching person—

—and felt her muscles tense as her eyes riveted on the all-to familiar figure that stood in front of her.

A single jade-green eye widened in surprise at her, extinguishing any belief she might have had that he had planned this. His face paled as if he had seen a ghost and instinctively, he reached out a hand as if to make sure she was real…or maybe make sure she wasn't. He was still as handsome as ever with his long mahogany hair and lean, spare body; time had been good to him, one supposed. Midii glared at him, gray eyes frosting over with glacial ice and she crouched slightly, hand curving around the hilt of her belt-knife. For a second, she spent a wasted moment to wish that she had not been so cavalier and left the sword in her room…it seemed she would need it today.

He seemed barely to notice her offensive position as he murmured disbelievingly, "Shibai Hitori?"

Midii's eyes narrowed as she recognized her former name and she jerked her head curtly, making ash-blonde curls of hair dance against her nape. A grim smile stretched her thin lips, complementing the deadly anger that burned within her wintry gray gaze. "Trowa Barton."

Tbc.

__

Hitorishibai means literally "one man show" in Japanese, a name that my beta, Kristine, helped me pick out for Midii…(you'll understand in the next chapter) We modified that into two words _Hotori, Shibai_, which would be how the Japanese would write her name, with the last one first and the first one last. *sheepish grin* it fits her; she's really a loner type of person more than anything else.

Shout outs go to:

Goldberry, angelic1090, Silver Wing, haemi, Meio-chan (gomen nasai!. I typoed last time!!), mama-sama, Kristine, Kenhime, Athame, Ley, and caveman, Crystal! You guys are the best…*grins sheepishly* gomen for the wait. I…um…*looks innocently at the sky* had a lot of homework so…yeah! ^_~ Hee hee, isn't Heero a jerky little chauvinist? Ah well, in your words Kristine, at least he's a _sweet_ jerky chauvinist…Lol…hope u liked the chappy!

To my readers: if you would like to be notified when a new chapter is released, please leave your email address or email me at furiesofhell@yahoo.com. ^_~ k, cya!


	7. Chapter 6a (gomen for the wait...)

Chapter 6: In the Jaws of the Serpent

Side-story: Midii's past

The carriages ambled by, their wooden wheels rattling against the worn, cobbled stone and on the street, merchants shouted in loud, shrill voices as if trying desperately to drown out the competing yells. Street urchins scampered past, full of sneer and swagger as they bent their hand awkwardly around the daggers at their hips, probably stolen, by the looks of the carefully crafted workmanship. Beneath her lowered eyelids, Midii's eyes sharpened. 

__

Gangs, she guessed, taking note of the distinctive nose-ring that each of the young men and women sported._ Patrolling their territory, maybe? _Their clothes, although of a tattered, almost indistinct gray color, were of the same cut in a rough imitation of a man's _gaku,_ with a bright crimson sash twisting around their too thin waists. They did not try to blend in with the rest of the _ayamid_'s crowd, but swaggered about the marketplace as if they were the lords of the city, flashing their daggers clumsily and pushing the milling people out of their way with haughty belligerence. 

Midii raised an amused eyebrow from under her loose caftan, the rippling folds of the hood cloaking her features in shadows. _Tsk, tsk, tsk…children children. From all appearances, they barely know the hilt from the blade._ The skin around her eye twitched slightly and her lips thinned as another thought occurred to her. _Something isn't right…if they were this incompetent, other gangs would have taken this territory long ago. Hmm…_She shook her head once, filing the information carefully away to think about at a later date. 

With easy anticipation, she glanced at the city around her, leaning unobtrusively against a shaded part of the southern wall as she waited patiently for her contact to appear. The Mid-Land sun beat down brutally on the _Vala'kai_, the City of the Gods, until images blurred in front of her, bending and rippling in the waves of heat and Midii spared a brief moment to curse the Mid-Land tradition that proclaimed that in the capital city, all women were to be covered from head to toe. The silk, which had seemed loose and cool to begin with, was fast becoming suffocating and sweat dampened her inner garment until it felt she had pools of sweat plastered against her skin.

"Inshala's Mercy," Midii muttered and blotted beads of sweat from her forehead with the swipe of her arm. By the hells, she hated this. However, if there was any time to infiltrate the city, it had to be now; the Mid-Landers had thrown too many men recklessly at the walls of Chelsa…the wall had fallen, but so had many men. 

So the Mid-Lands were gathering freelance mercenaries to fill in their ranks, and Lady Une had ordered her daughter to join these men and women to see what she could learn. She smiled ironically, thinking of the pampered, coddled life that she had left behind. If the nobles of the Court could only see her now, Midii Une, illegitimate daughter of Lady Anne Une, mucking in enemy territory as an undercover agent. 

__

Shibai Hitori, she corrected herself absently. Silently, she tried to ignore the heat by rerunning her cover story through her head again, drilling it into herself until she almost believed it as truth. _My mother was a peasant from the Ishin Shishi district on the outskirts of the Mid-Lands. My father was a mercenary hire-sword that had passed by the town; I never knew him. I have…had…an older brother that disappeared on his thirteenth birthday and I haven't seen him ever since. I left home at the beginning of the Conquest and trained to become a mercenary…_

"Lady Hitori?" Midii started, hand going instinctively to the hilt of her saber that hid within the folds of the billowing caftan. Her eyes collided with light lime-green eyes that twinkled in wry humor at her and his swarthy face had a single scar that went from jaw to temple, narrowly missing his left eye. He was probably in his late twenties but already, there was a bitter cynicism about him that twisted his lips into a sneer and a world-wariness that lit his eyes. Midii relaxed slightly as she saw the scar; her contact was said to have such a mark on his face. But this could just be another Mid-Land trap, so her fingers remained resting lightly on the leather wrapped pommel.

Smoothly, she smiled in a perfunctory way, replying, "Lady I am not, sir. Mercenary am I, of the District Ishin Shishi." 

Her tongue fumbled against the unfamiliarly harsh, guttural syllables of Mid-land speech, hearing the words twisting against the roof of her mouth. Inwardly, she winced at the tortured grammar and the thick, fumbling accent that cracked her normally melodious voice. She knew how to speak perfect, accentless _Malrik, _the Mid-Land language, but according to her research, the border lands' peasants had always spoken thusly. It had taken her a full year in their company to be able to imitate their customs, their slight mannerisms, and a little longer than that to master the dialect itself. It had not been easy. 

"Pray, you are who?"

Instead of replying, a slow grin spread across the man's face, bringing out the highlights in his mocking eyes and he chuckled slightly, his voice filled with a slightly bitter note. "Nice. Verra' nice. If 'n I hadna been given yer description, I would'a thought that ye were truly jus'nother hire-sword wanderin' the cap'tal stead of—"

Midii's eyes had widened during his speech and her hand shot out to clasp over the man's mouth before she dropped the accent, hissing, "Fool! Do you wish us both to hang from the gallows by night?"

He merely gave her an infuriating grin, his face full of mockery as he jerked her hand free, his head tossed arrogantly to one side. "Hah. What do I care? Livin' this life is no worse then dyin and ye and I both know I do this for yer gold, nothin' more. I've no loyalty to yer Prelate." There was old pain in his eyes beneath the façade of indifferent derision and he shrugged, dangerous golden flecks highlighting in his eyes. "Th'money, girl-child."

"Shelter first. And sure you must be that it will draw no attention," Midii retorted, contempt flashing in her dove gray eyes. "Else it is but nothing you get." He glared at her for a second, then jerked his head once, and walked away, indicating that she should follow. Midii stared after him, hands clenched at her side. Obviously he was not trustworthy; he admitted it himself. What Gods bedamned person had set her liaison as this...this…this _man!?_

"Comin? Or are ye waitin' for the city t'crumble whilst ye stand there?" Gritting her teeth, Midii followed this strange man into the maze of alleyways...but her hand never strayed far from her sword.

***

He led her on a twisting, rambling path that was designed to confuse or bore anyone who might have been following them, his heavy, brooding silence making Midii uneasy, even as she memorized each turn they made so that she could find her way out later. She eyed his wide, broad back dubiously, keeping her fears and mistrust to herself; one welcomed those they doubted with open arms and held the serpent as closely as possible.

With only a brief hesitation, Midii tested the waters, asking cautiously, "Your name is what sir?"

He barely turned his head but in the dim light that filtered past the tall, damp walls, she could see a trace of a smirk touching his lips. "Ye c'n call me Odin, girl-child. Odin Lowe." 

Midii gritted her teeth. She was _not_ a child but a woman full grown in her seventeenth year! In order to obtain this mission, she had had to fight half a dozen competitors in unarmed combat, undergo extensive torture-simulation so that she would not divulge any information should she be captured. She had disciplined herself for this mission for more than a year, visiting her "aunts" in Ishin Shishi to learn their ways after her initial combat training…ruthlessly pushing her body and mind to its limits, and then more. No, she was no child.

She had the scars to prove it.

"C_hild_, I am not, Odin Lowe," She snapped coldly, "Your employer I am! Ask only did I one question—"

"Yeah, n'answered it was," Odin interrupted, mimicking her accent in deft mimicry. His grin seemed to grow wider as he came to a door of black steel bars, "Shuck the boonies talk, _girl-child_, and th'whole noble holier than thou crap. S'botherin' me. An' ye be not wantin' to sound like that when y'enter here."

Midii smiled coldly, "Judge I will be of that, Odin Lowe."

He shrugged indifferently as he pounded his fist against the door, twice loudly and once softly. "T'is yer hide. Don't be expectin' me t'jump in n'save ye."

"Certainly, will I not." There was heavy irony in Midii's voice though her face was cloaked in shadows, betraying nothing more than cool civility. "Done your job you have. Thank you I should. Half of your money now, as promised it was. Half later upon my leaving." Midii withdrew a small pouch and flicked her wrist, sending the leather-bound bag neatly into his open hand. 

There was a glitter in his eyes and not bothering to count it, he stuffed the bag of coins into one of his coat pockets, his voice cloyingly dulcet as he said, "Why thank ye, yer ladyship. Glad t'be of service." Before Midii could make a retort, the door opened, admitting them into a small, dank bar. Midii wrinkled her nose as a cloud of smoke smelling of opium and _harika_ almost choked her as she stepped into the room, and casually, she pulled back her hood, eyebrow arched as the patrons turned to look at her. They were a motley crew, toughneck group of pickpockets, thieves, and most probably assassins. Wonderful. 

She turned slightly to glare at Odin but he just gave her a twisted smile, "Ye wanted somewhere outta the way, girl-child. This be as outta the way as it get. Th'room in the second floor, third door down be yours."

"Hmph." Suppressing the urge to kick Odin in the shin, she stalked over to the bar, sitting into one of the wobbly knock-kneed stool with well-balanced ease. Propping an elbow on the counter, she spared a glance at the man behind the counter, ordering coolly, "_Surku_. Clean the glass should be." 

An ugly chuckle murmured through the room and she felt the air pressure around her change as two men sat on either side of her, the stale smell of beer and rot evident in their breath as they leaned over her, leering insolently over her dainty features and slightly curved figure. _Oh this just gets better and better…_Ignoring them, she reached out to take the filthy glass. A small frown of distaste wrinkled her brow as she saw the small…denizens…that swam laconically in the murky liquid. Her eyes narrowed.

"Clean this glass is not. Filth, it is!" Her voice turned wintry and she raised her gaze to glare lethally at the indifferent bartender who just shrugged and went back to polishing a glass absently with his rather dirty cloth. She scowled and would have risen to her feet but a large, meaty hand laid against her shoulder, pushing her roughly back into the seat.

"Well, well, pretty one. Yer not goin' so soon, are ye?"

"Yeah, forget th'glass. We got more…important…things t'speak of, yeah?"

"No." Midii said stonily. She stiffened as she felt a hand slipping under the folds of her cloak, brushing against her breast with deliberate crudity and she narrowed her eyes, fighting for control. "Release me at once!" Her voice was sharp and angry but calmly, she slipped her fingers into her sleeves, the cool metal handles of her throwing knives fitting into the space between her fingers and she shifted slightly as she calculated her chances against both of them. _First things first…get that man off me!_

Another sneer. "Nah, I like m'hand where t'is now."

A bizarre smile drifted across her face and her eyes, already a turbid gray, darkened to ebony. "Then on your head is your death." 

She lifted her arm and slammed her elbow into his eye, simultaneously sliding her knives free of their sheathes as she dropped to both her feet, giving the blades a spin for good measure. Then she brought the knifepoint down in a swift jerk, feeling the blade slice through skin and sinew, grating against bone and then wood, plunged into both his hand and the countertop for good measure. The man screamed in pain and horror as he stared at his immobilized hand, the knife point imbedded to hilt and ignoring him for a while, Midii skidded away from the counter, her short sword out as she regarded the other man with calm, analytical eyes.

He growled, coming at her as he swung his own sword. The blow almost knocked her to her knees and she gritted her teeth, holding the blade firm although she felt as if her shoulder ligaments were being torn from her torso. He was heavier than she was by a good hundred pounds and unfortunately, that weight was probably made entirely of muscle. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Odin watching her silently, hand resting lightly on his knife hilt and surprise made her twitch her lips briefly. Was he _worried_ for her safety? Right, perhaps when hell had frozen over! 

With a heave she threw back his blade, her foot landing a sidekick against his jaw. He staggered back but not giving him a chance to recover, Midii grabbed his wrist, fingers digging into the nerves until the sword fell from his numbed hand and he looked up straight into a length of steel…and the coldest eyes that he ever hoped to see.

"Mention did I that a mercenary I am?" Midii queried softly. She had her sword point resting against the bridge of his nose and he swallowed nervously, Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

"Listen lady, we don't want any trouble—"

"Trouble I did not want either. Your presence you and your sword-friend forced on me," She slid her eyes towards the man at the counter who was clutching his hand as crimson blood welled from beneath the knife hilt. There was a look of pure terror on both their faces and the room seemed frozen, all eyes riveting on the tableau. "Kill you I should, for the insult."

Her cool logic made the man break out into sweat and he began to babble, his voice a mass of incoherent pleas. "Nah, you don'wanna do that. Look, I'll give y'ma money. I gotta wife n'two kids…"

"Snivel you should not if warrior you indeed are! Be here you should not if wife and children you have!" Midii snapped, then kicked him towards the door, her expression filled with disgust. She walked back to the bar and other man began to choke in fear, shying away from her as much as his pinned hand would allow.

She pressed her lips together, ice sharpening the gray of her dark eyes as she leaned over the terrified man, whispering softly, "One thing different there is between whore and mercenary, though we both our body sell. For sale is _only_ my sword arm. Nothing more." She twisted the knifepoint a little more, and he blanched, a strangled whimper escaping from under his breath. "Understanding we have?"

"Yeah, understanding we have." The man repeated hoarsely then nearly screamed again when she jerked out the knife, casually laying it on the table by his wounded hand as if daring him to take it. She turned back to the bar, not bothering to watch them scamper out the door, supporting each other amidst whispers of "witch" and "freak". 

Picking up her glass, she deliberately looked at the bartender, then brought the drink crashing down against the countertop. The crack and tinkle of the shards falling to the floor was unnaturally loud in the silent room. "_Surku! _And _clean_ should the glass be!"

As the man hastened to respond, Odin walked up to the suddenly deserted counter, and Midii turned her head to acknowledge him, her brow raised inquiringly. He chuckled, raising his own mug in a toast. "So, Shibai. Somethin' be tellin' me I've been underestimatin' ye."

Midii glanced back at him…and smiled. 

***

They became fast friends after that; Odin's demeanor grew considerably warmer and he took it upon himself to walk her around the city each day. He seemed to take a kind of perverse amusement from watching her play the part of ice-eyed village-born mercenary towards the haughty aristocracy and more than once, Midii glanced up at her tall companion, eyebrow arched in question. Each time, he glanced back at her and shrugged, an indifferent grin playing about his lips but Midii could see the sharp bitterness that sometimes lurked behind the cheerful façade. In his manner there was a paradoxical vacillation between contempt and envy towards the highborn nobles they passed on the street; it was as if he simultaneously loved and hated, yearned for and rejected, and what he wished for so passionately for, Midii understood all too well.

He was, she guessed, a bastard born to some noble lineage, as she herself was, and Midii sympathized, knowing all too well the shame and silent humiliation that the ones holding the bastardy stigma experienced. Outcast to nobility and rejected by the lower class, they found themselves alone in the world, unable to fully conform into anything; so they grasped at any possible profession out of defiance or some perverse way to prove to their parents that they were strong enough to be independent of the childhood needs of love and comfort. Perhaps…to prove that they were worthy of being respected as equals, if they could not be loved as a child. 

For a second, Midii's lips twisted unhappily; it never worked of course. Lady Anne Une was a hard woman. To her, Midii was an unexpected surprise that had distressed her to no ends; things like that just did not _happen_ to a lady. To give Lady Une her credit though, she had tried to be a good mother, but her time-consuming position as Prelate Kilan's Advisor as well as some lingering awkwardness over Midii's chosen profession had opened a gulf between them. It was difficult to be both mother and commander, Midii knew, but as a result, Lady Une had tried to distance herself from Midii to give her an objective perspective…perhaps too objective.

She suspected that Odin's position was no different. If one looked closely, one could see his telltale brilliant jade eyes that ran in the Barton line and the fine bones (marred however it was by the scar) that raised his cheekbones slightly and squared his jaw. And yet he denounced the Barton family with a vengeance, spitting on the ground with vehement loathing when his surname was mentioned. 

There were times when his virulent hatred frightened her; she didn't quite understand why. She should have been overjoyed for this man who hated the Bartons so much would willingly help her gain the knowledge to destroy them. But sometimes…there was something in his eyes…

With a start, Midii realized that she had stopped in her conversation with Odin to pursue her melancholy thoughts and shook herself out with a mental effort. Standing up from the table where they had been lounging, she announced quietly, "A job I will need. Strange it will seem to see a lazy mercenary with her pouch so full…" She dropped her voice lower and her accent lightened as she added softly so that only Odin could hear, "And it's time. I _need_ to know the specifications of the Barton's attack plans. What better way than to infiltrate the palace as just another hire-sword?"

Instead of trying to dissuade her as she expected him to, Odin nodded soberly and she realized yet again how alike they were. He understood her position as well; this was a contract by blood and loyalty and one did not stand in the way of such contracts. 

"Aye." He favored with a crooked smile as he added, "Sometimes, t'is hard to remember that ye'are not really who ye play at bein, Shibai; ye play th'part as well as any shadow-guard. Yer good at what ye do…but ye must remember, them that rule this land are good at playin' games too." His eyes were hooded as he added, "Ye dinna know who you may be trustin."

"I will be on my guard," Midii replied softly, and reached over the table to clasp his hand in hers. "And I already know this, my friend."

"Do ye?" He asked cryptically, then sighed, shaking his head. "Don't underestimate 'em, Shibai. They're…_we're_," he corrected himself bitterly, "a bastard race; scooped up from th'Gods' midden heap an'formed t'the body of men. No savin' grace, no loyalty, jus'avarice an'ambition. If t'would earn them power, they'd sell their flesh n'blood t'Istall." He made a sharp gesture to the length of torn and seamed flesh that ran the length of his face, adding coldly, "This I got from m'so called father. Sent me on a mission." Another vicious smile. "'parantly I wasn't suppose t'return." 

Midii gripped his fingers tighter, in comfort or to stop him from speaking, she didn't know which. After all, was she not in a similar mission? "You're past that time in your life." She said quietly. "You need him not anymore." A smile curved her lips and a rare sparkle touched her gray eyes, making her seem younger, "Perhaps the Barton line is wallowing in the midden heap. Isn't that as good a reason as any not to associate with them anymore?"

He stared at her, then gave a hoarse bark of laughter. "Yeah, never thought that way." He squeezed her hand briefly in response before pulling away. "G'won. Ye have a job t'do." With a nod, she pulled on her cloak, the heavy sable silk swirling heavily about her shoulders, and silently disappeared out the door. 

Tbc…

AN: argh! I know, I haven't written in a long time! Gomen! -_-;; this time of the semester would have to be known as "hell week" although certainly, hell has lasted longer than just a week. But projects are due (the week before spring break *grumble*) and I have just discovered another form of fandom that I fell in love with: gamer doujinshi =^_^= (in other words, I write my own comic about something having to do vaguely with RPG games). I read this one (so long!) called at megatokyo.com and it was SOOOOO cool!! So, well…yeah, sable and her bro have taken on a new pet project. -_-;; heh.

Also, this chapter was supposed to include ALL of Midii's story, but when the page number hit 13 and I was nowhere near the end, K-chan suggested that I split the side story into two+ chaps, so that's what's happening. ALSO…Kristine told me that Midii sounds uncomfortably like Yoda, and while I do enjoy Star Wars from time to time…THAT WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN!! -_-;; All I did was use inverted sentence structures…it was not supposed to sound like Yoda-san!! Luckily that is not how she will talk the rest of the time…it just happened that that accent was…taken…by a long-eared, few thousand year old alien hermit. *sweatdrop*

Shouts out go to:

****

angelic1090, lady scarlet-une, Kristine (yes, she still sounds like Yoda…bite me. ^_~ lol *hugs), **Goldberry **(hi hi…I _LOVE_ your new chapter…even though it took me SO long to finally get around to reading it…argh…I NEED MORE THAN TWENTY-FOUR HOURS IN A DAY!), **SJ, MaraLaeh Lin, Chibi Cat, mama-sama, Sai, Ley, Athame, Jupiter's Light, teresa, Silver Wing, Meio-chan, Amanda Dale** (HI!!!!!!!!!! ^__^ first time seeing you off the ML…*happy smile), **Crystal, SJ, a_owl** (thanks for the email…do I plan to pair Midii and Trowa? *sweatdrop* er…if they survive their encounter. ^_~ tee hee, kidding, kidding) and **stargirl2004**.

^_^ Luv ya'll! *grinz* don't study too hard for upcoming finals…if you have them! (*argh*) and remember, staying up twenty-four hours is NOT a fun way to spend Saturday night…especially if you're calculating the rotation of a space colony around Mars. Thing spins, how fast? Why does it matter??? Oh….but…oh I see…we don't want it to CRASH into the surface of the planet….-_-;; right, that would be bad. kinda dazed and rambling from lack of sleep. Tee hee….

If you want me to email you any new chapters, leave your email address, or send me a message at furiesofhell@yahoo.com. ^_~ I luv ta chat too, so giive my IM a ring if ur in the mood!


	8. Chapter 6b (GODDESS!!!!!!! TOOOOOOO LLLL...

AN: Eh heh heh heh….gomen nasai, long time no update. But…um…this chapter is REALLY long, in my standards…it's like a story in itself, which it is…Midii/Trowa/Odin's background. You'll see the reason for Midii's somewhat _hostile_ greeting towards Trowa…*crooked grin* God this took such a long time…blech. Stupid flashbacks…God!! Not again!!! (well…not for a long time, anyway)

Light lime, you have been warned!

GOMEN CHIBI CAT!!! . I really thought I would be able to post by Friday, but I did something really STUPID with my dad's laptop…so um….I had it finished, but…well, I had to totally retype the last ten pages….-_-;; took longer than expected to finish writing…so SO sorry!

In the Jaws of the Serpent pt II—Betrayal 

Midii was mildly surprised as she saw the long, twisting line of hire-swords that waited in the courtyard, milling about restlessly as the sun beat upon the open courtyard. There were men of all walks and vocation: men in assassin's black, blood-sworn crimson, and even _kan'ju _priests' rippling gold. Then there were plainly dressed mercenaries such as herself, clothed in a simple cape and cured leather armor with a sword sheathed at the waist and probably a few dozen daggers secured in various places on the body. There were a few women too, she noted, thin, spare of flesh, and most almost as sexless as the blade they carried. They had the look of an acrobat's starved body and hawk-like features and for a moment, Midii felt a twinge of self-consciousness. She was as out of place here as a wildflower amongst a field of crabgrass.

Then the moment passed and she shrugged mentally, leaning against one of the sun-baked walls. If she stood out, more the better. Amongst these fierce warriors, any small advantage was to her benefit. Besides, beneath the delicate bloom of the rose always lay the thorns; she was trained to do this, so do this she would.

A heavy metal gong silenced the murmur of the crowd and all eyes turned up to the slightly raised pedestal, anticipation filling the air with heady expectancy. Midii also raised her head, silver eyes impassive as she gazed into the face of the hated military leader of the Mid-Lands, the High Commanding officer of the Imperial Army: Kale'el Barton. He had the characteristic ice green eyes and proud, molded face that was cold with intelligence and cruelty. His mahogany brown hair was pulled away from his face, falling down his back in one neat sheen with glass beads woven intermittently into the strands so that they sparkled and blazed like molten gold when the sunlight hit them. 

__

Beautiful man, Midii noted objectively, _But then, the crystal snake is beautiful too, until you feel the bite of its poison fangs._

Slowly, almost as if he was already judging every mercenary's worth then and there, he looked over the assembled swordsmen, his lips thin and humorless, eyes searching. It seemed as if those around her hardly breathed when his gaze passed over them, as if they were all held in thrall by this man and even Midii stood up a little straighter under his scrutiny. A powerful man, no doubt. She understood now why so many men died so eagerly for him. 

__

The Barton charm, she thought sardonically, waiting for him to begin speaking.

"Sword-children." His voice was low, mesmerizing and almost against her will, Midii looked up with more interest in her eyes, "Children of blood and tears; from the far districts of the Isengard Lair to the natives of _Vala'kai _itself; I welcome you!" There was a sea of murmurs that rose and peaked before dying into silence again. "You have come for the glory, the honor of becoming a warrior in the Imperial Army. Today, and the days to come for a week, you will be tested beyond whatever you have possibly known, pitted against each other to _fight_ for that honor. Some will die. The battlefield shall spill with a crimson tide from the wounded, the dead. That is war. Prepare yourself for it! Those of you that survive…you will be judged." 

His serpentine eyes lit briefly over the assemblage once again and his voice bolder, harsher, "The tests shall begin tomorrow. You will fight your peers in singles and in packs; in this trial, there are two things you may trust: your sword, yourself. Anything that breathes, they are potential enemies. Trust no one! There are no rules in this game. Live and you will stay alive. Die and no one will mourn you. There can be only the best!" He smiled with brittle satisfaction and with a flick of his robe, turned neatly on his heel and walked back through the door in which he came. Slowly, the mercenaries glanced at each other warily, suspiciously, as if they already expected each other of foul play.

Not an unfounded suspicion to be sure; there would be more than one assassination tonight. The pressure at her back increased slightly and a warning tingle that had often served her well traced her spine. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a young man leaning at the wall not far from her. His long bangs cast a rippling shadow over a large portion of his face and from this angle, Midii couldn't see him well. He was tall, very tall, but it seemed as if he had yet to grow into his lanky frame although he moved with a sort of odd grace. She glanced at him curiously; there was an aura of competency about him. He seemed a shadow-like wraith that moved with all the power and silence of a panther and watched all about him with cool, diffident arrogance.

As if he felt her scrutiny, he turned his head slightly, and she saw that he had the brightest, pure emerald eyes. Her heart gave a lurch as he stood up and began walking towards her but she didn't move, merely watched his approach with bold, unafraid silver eyes. He stopped several paces from her, his gaze moving over her face carefully before he held out a long-fingered hand in greeting.

"Hello."

Midii raised her eyebrow but inclined her head in acknowledgement. Her hands remained folded across her chest.

Undaunted, he continued quietly, "I am called Trowa. And you?" He had the richest baritone that she had ever heard. It seemed as inviting as warm velvet against her senses, sending pleasant tingles down her back.

"Shibai," She replied huskily. "Shibai Hitori."

"You are of the outer districts then." When he saw the suspicious glance that she gave him, a faint smile drifted across his impassive features. "Your accent and your name."

She compressed her lips, then glanced as the rest of the group slowly filtered into a large pastureland where they would be required to tent. Ignoring the tall man (damn him for making her so uneasy!) she slipped around his larger form and made for the camping grounds when she felt the touch of fingers against her shoulders. 

"I meant no offense."

She looked back at him levelly, "None did I take."

"_Sa_." Silence stretched between them until finally, Trowa shrugged once, dropping his hand from her shoulder and jerked his chin towards the pasture. "We should go. They are setting up camp."

Midii nodded casually but her gray eyes were slightly narrowed and her fingers twitched lightly before stilling at her side. A sliver of warning swept through her senses, cautioning her not to get involved with this man; no matter his courteous, friendly manner, this unknown Trowa was dangerous. She knew this as firmly as she knew her own name.

"Agreed." She slid her eyes briefly to a relatively secluded section at the edge of the bustling camp, a place shrouded by the gray-green of deep foliage and wild growth that would be ample protection against unwary lurkers. "Bed down, I will there. Trust them," she couldn't keep the contempt from flashing over her features. "I do not." 

She smiled once in a brittle, perfunctory way and he inclined his head thoughtfully, lifting his fingers to signal that she proceed him. Her smile, never genuine to begin with, faltered, then faded entirely from her face. "Ask I did not for company."

"Company unasked for is perhaps the best company," He quoted softly, then lifted a shoulder in a simple shrug. "I have no great love for our comrades-in-arms either. I do not wish a knife down my throat in my sleep."

"And if my knife it is you find against your throat?"

He smiled, a slight, mocking lift of his lips. "Then I will be well justified in my death."

She gritted her teeth at his arrogance, clamping her lips shut until her jaws ached before wheeling on her foot and walking away from him, leaving him to follow her swift steps. Her hands were fisted tightly at her sides and she barely kept from stomping her feet, making a decided effort to move silently as she had always done. _Too hot, Midii…you're working yourself up too much. Let him underestimate you…let them all underestimate you. That will lead to arrogance and arrogance leads to defeat._

Still…

It was a while before she was able to rid the tension that made her stiff with resentment, wrestling the limbs of the trees into a protective bower until the muscles of her arms and shoulders spasmed in protest and splinters dug through her callused finger pads. Hands grasped the branches above her own, helping her pull them into the proper shape until the makeshift shelter was hidden mostly from sight by the willowy trees. 

Once finished, Midii dropped to her knees, digging out some earth for a pitfire. Ringing the circle with small stones, she struck a spark, carefully feeding the blaze until a small fire snapped hungrily at the dried leaves and twigs, then eagerly went to consume the larger logs. When she finished, she found a small earthen bowl of something by her side and raised her brow in askance, glancing warily at her companion.

"Food," He replied shortly, then when she said nothing, he added, "From the central hearth. Should be safe." She saw that he held a similar bowl in his own hands, and relaxing slightly, picked up the dish. The gray porridge was unappetizing at best, some sort of fungus bits floating amidst a film of yellow oil. Midii grimaced.

"My thank but not necessary." Digging into her pack, she produced half a loaf of stale bread and a block of salted pork as well. Sitting at the opposite side of the fire, she began calmly carving a fifth of the rations away, before packing it back into her sack. She ate neatly but quickly, then settled down to wait for the morning's dawning, all the while keeping an eye out for Trowa.

He noticed her wary glance but said nothing, the fire snapping between them like hungry dragons. She dozed uneasily, lulled by the crackling of the fire, arms laid across her stomach, her knees propped up and pulled against her body to preserve any extra warmth that came her way. When something heavy and warm draped across her, she started fully awake, hand moving swiftly to the knife at her elbow as she jerked up.

Suspicious gray eyes clashed with vibrant jade green, both eyes riveted on each other's face, judging, measuring. Then he shrugged, dropping his hands from the blanket that now lay haphazardly around her as he sat back down a ways from her.

He made no explanation and no comment either when come morning, he saw the blanket folded neatly beside him, breakfast warmed in the dying embers of the fire, and Midii nowhere to be seen.

***

The days were endless flurries of combat and battle and after the first day, all of Midii's concentration narrowed only into three commands: attack, parry, disarm. She hardly remembered how many men she went up against, only knew that at the end, she remained alive, swaying slightly on her feet, her arms aching abominably. It was a grueling experience, but no worse than her training…except that it never ended. 

Day after day after day, there was only the same and as more people were eliminated or judged unworthy, the testing period became longer and longer, stretching on the fifth day from pre-dawn to after the midnight bell had tolled. Her arms were runneled with spatters of blood and long, thin slices; some that went from the back of her wrists to above her shoulderblade. Luckily most were merely scratch wounds, hardly deep enough to matter. Her face now sported a clean cut that ran from her forehead to her temple where she had dodged a hairsbreadth too slow from the edge of a lancet, but even that pain had dulled for the most part.

Midii rolled her shoulders wearily until she felt her bone joints crack, releasing some of the tension in her back, then settled against a tree, not even bothering to get out her trail rations; she felt too tired to eat. She laid out her weapons in the order that she would need them, sword at her elbow, then heavy dagger, all the way to her throwing knives last near her knees. Tripwires were staked across the camp, to alert her of any unwelcome visitors, but she wasn't going to take any chances; the last time had been too close a shave for comfort. The assassin had been almost on top of her before she had woken. Trowa had been warned of them, so there was no reason he would be accidentally snared in one of the traps.

He was a strange one, Trowa, but she had slowly become used to his presence in her camp. He spoke little and when he did, never for any great length of time, and only on mundane topics. That was fine; Midii did not wish to talk either. Instead, he seemed content to watch her, lending a helping hand, albeit unasked for, when the situation permitted it.

Sometimes in the middle of combat, she saw Trowa watching behind the judges before disappearing when she had finished. Sometimes she did not, but that didn't penetrate much into her mind either. Dimly from time to time, she thought it strange to think that she had never heard his name called for combat arena but always before she could dwell too much on that thought, she found herself stepping into the encircled sand-pit, saluting the judges with her blood encrusted sword. Her whole focus was on staying away from the sharp edged daggers and poison-tipped stilettos; the rest was secondary in importance. Every night when she went back to their campsite, he made no comment about the day's work; possibly because he was equally tired. But somehow, that didn't seem the case. More like that he was politely avoiding an unsavory topic…or perhaps because by the time she came back, she was ready to collapse from fatigue and in no mood for petty conversation.

As a matter of fact, she noted that he had not come back to camp that night and concluded that he had probably found her reticence unnerving and had left for better company. That was not a bad thing. She still didn't know whether she could trust the quiet, contemplative warrior. But it was unsettling, perhaps disappointing, that he had so little courage to face her; especially since this was the night before the last day of combat. He had been there since their first meeting and she was somewhat surprised to see that the fire had not been lit when she had come back. 

Ah well. There was little time enough to think of aught else but the next battle and she had sensed that he was not one easily killed by an opponent. Whatever the reason he was not here, it was not hers to worry of.

Glancing at the sky, she murmured, "One more day; Inshala take mercy on my soul. One more day and all this will be over." She chuckled, a little sourly as she rested her head against the rough pillow of the tree bark, "That is, if I make it that long." 

***

Absently, she tied on the last of her bandages, making sure her leather armor was well-fit and mended. Her sleek blonde hair, once past shoulder-length, was hacked off just beneath her earlobes, a precaution she had decided to take the night before. Long hair was a massive nuisance and almost a fatal one when the hairband she wore had broken in the middle of one of her battles, tumbling free to swing into her eyes and blind her. Today, she would take no chances. She would not jeopardize her mission on a case of vanity. 

She sighed, her knee joints cracking as she stood fully on her feet. She was as ready as she could make herself. For a second, she considered taking the crushed _ril_ in her pack to keep her andrenaline flow and spirit up but just as quickly rejected the idea. She would win this on her own strength on not that of some drug! Midii Une was stronger than that.

The sound of quiet steps was muffled against the dewy grass and somehow, she wasn't surprised to see her tall, green-eyed stranger standing before her, watching her final preparations. 

"Warrior." She greeted, barely sparing him a glance. There was her knife to be checked, her dagger sheathes were a bit worn but still fine, her sword she would hold bare today, the leather wrap would only hamper her movements. 

"Mercenary," was the rejoinder. There was a pause. "You are still alive," The faintly surprised note in his voice made Midii glance up sharply, tensing, hands dropping instinctively towards her hidden blades.

"Ah." She acknowledged warily. "Seems so." _For the moment._

A smile of amusement. "I wish you luck facing your next opponent." He held a long-fingered hand toward her, much as he had done the first time they had met. 

Midii's glance wavered between the outstretched hand and the inscrutable expression he wore on his face as the suspicion that she thought was gone rose into her heart again. _Sheka! What is the damned man up to? Contact poison on his fingers? No…he has no gloves on…I don't believe he would be willing to kill himself in order to get rid of me. Perhaps a resistant to it? _His eyebrows raised challengingly as he saw her hesitation and she narrowed her eyes in response, her lips tightening into a single white line. 

__

Damn the man…Grudgingly, she accepted his salute, letting his fingers lock loosely about her wrist, palm touching hers. His hand was warm and pleasantly rough against her own callus-striped fingers and he held the traditional handshake a few seconds more than he needed to. She felt a tingle go up her spine, not unpleasing; more like the feeling of crystal resonating through her veins until her whole body vibrated with awareness. Midii's breath caught sharply in her throat; she had never had a reaction to anyone else like _this_ before…

His sharp eyes seemed to stare through her, catching her unspoken thoughts for suddenly, before she had a chance to react, his arms shot forward and she found herself embraced fully against his lean length, his face pressed into her neck. He held her like that for a moment before releasing her so abruptly that she wanted to stagger against the embrace of the willow tree. 

"Fight well," He added diffidently, and almost as if he was carried away on the wings of the wind, he turned on his heel and was gone before she had a chance to respond. "You have my favor."

__

What in the Seven Circles of Istall's Shadow Lands was that!? Midii's mind worked under delayed reaction, exploding in indignant fury, demanding recompense in the form of a certain tall warrior's head. Unfortunately, he had already left, and her body was still in a state of melted nerves so it took her a while to realize vaguely that her mouth was still hanging open in an 'o' of dazed surprise.

She clenched her jaw shut, color flaming through her fair cheeks. How _dare_ he?! Her mood considerably soured, she tightened her knife sheath, expression turning downright black. Whoever her opponent was today, he had better be prepared to face her…she had just acquired some major frustration that needed a new outlet.

***

Midii stalked onto the sidelines, her brows drawn as she glanced at the remaining warriors, their numbers considerably lessened than when she had arrived on the first day. There was a stillness about the scene, as if no one dared to move from their rooted position, all eyes fixed stoically on the raised dais where High Commander Kale'el stood motionless, his cold gaze hovering over the assembled men and women. The wind blew from the south and west seemed only to agitate the tense silence into a fevered pitch; even the soft murmur was reminiscent of the muted growl of a lioness bunching its hind legs to spring.

"You have done well." Midii's eyes widened imperceptibly at the cool approval she heard in Kale'el's cutting voice. "You who have passed this trial, are worthy of becoming the Sixteenth Unit of the Imperial Army, designated by its Captain as _Kas'even-ra_, the RavenWing-Guard." He gestured curtly towards the man at his back and Midii shifted her gaze slightly, her eyes cold and calculating. He was swathed completely in midnight, from the loose silk of his tunic and pants to the hardened leather armor that he wore. Tiny black diamond studs dotted the seams of his clothes and held the fastenings close on his _gurka_, a hooded vestment that hung low across his forehead and swathed across his high cheekbones. 

He didn't seem to acknowledge Kale'el's gesture towards him, or anything in fact, only stared forward with an almost arrogant disdain. _Prob'ly he's young enough to think he's immortal to the Shadow Lover's dance,_ Midii thought cynically, _But what do you tell these kind of people when Noirell taps his quill against the Book of Judgement?_

Dismissing the man completely from her mind, she shifted her attention back to Kale'el as he continued his speech. "The Guard has been chosen, but the test is not yet complete. The Captain is chosen. The Guard is chosen. Now, all that remains is to see who is worthy of being the second-in-command to this company and that will be decided by battle as well." 

He threw his hands wide, fingers outstretched over the assemblage as his ringing tones reverberated across the clearing like clear chapel bells. "You shall all of a chance, but it is not among yourselves you will fight, but against the pack-leader, against your Captain! The first man who cuts the _gurka_ from his shoulders shall have the honor, _but_," He stressed the word until it became almost a sibilant hiss, "you will spill none of _his _blood! On the pain of death," Kale'el added humorlessly, his cruel crystal eyes as cold as peridots. "Begin! First challenger, Milak Orl'ren!"

The man was good Midii gave him that. He had a right to his conceit for he wielded his blade as if it was an extension of his arm. He was as graceful and as quick as a dancer and it seemed that his sable clad feet barely touched the dirt floor of the arena as he spun, dodged, and parried with consummate skill and ease. Man after man was disarmed within the first few minutes of the fight and Midii felt her grudging admiration for him increase. 

He had to be getting tired. The sheer amount of opponents that were thrown his way should have seen to that. And yet, if anything, he seemed to become more energized as the day wore on, as if he was becoming frustrated by the lack of a good fight and becoming even more overbearing in his abilities.

__

Oh well, better for me, Midii thought as she began to warm up. Half-healed scars pulled stiffly and twinged in protest but she ignored them, brutally limbering up every part of her body to minimize the possibility of cramping. _The more arrogant he is now, the more he'll underestimate me when the time comes, which is what I want. Young pup…_someone_ needs to teach him a lesson._ She winced as another would-be challenger went flying against the wall, slumping over in unconsciousness, _Of course, I might not be the one that can do that…_

Finally, Kale'el glanced at the list, impatience and disgust apparent in his stony face as he barked coldly, "Challenger Hitori, Shibai! Enter!" 

Midii nodded curtly, rising to her feet. Her hands instinctively smoothed over her hidden dagger sheathes and knives before she unhooked her sword from her sash, feeling the bumps and ridges of the hilt fit exactly into the callus ridges of her fingers. She heard snickers sweep across the onlookers and willed her face into an emotionless mask even though two spots of anger burned high on her cheeks.

"Oh lookie, the girl-child thinks she's a warrior…"

"Foolish…A woman's place by the hearth."

"Heh…wouldn't mind if she warmed _my_ hearth…"

__

Warmed his—he did not just…I should kill_ him! _She almost pivoted on her heel to walk over and slam his head against the ground but she controlled the urge with a barely concealed snarl, her head going low between her shoulders as she tried to ignore them. _I need to kill something—no must keep head cool._ Another catcall whooped through the air and she drew her breath through her teeth in a hiss. _When I am finished with this…you…will…die…_

Dropping her cloak from her shoulders she stalked into the arena, brusquely squaring her shoulders to bow stiffly towards the black-garbed man before taking a passive guard stance. There was a small snort (of _amusement??) _from her opponent before he inclined his head towards her, moving into his own stance and Midii was more determined than ever to earn the position of second-in-command. She would be lying if she said it was _only_ so that she could be in a position to learn more information to pass back to the Sanq, though that was true. No…she would _prove_ to these fumble-fingered idiots that a mere female was more than a match for them!

This had just gotten personal.

He struck quickly, sword levering low between her arms as if to flip the blade out of her hand and end the bout immediately but Midii growled, parrying the blow. She dislodged her sword from his and launched herself forward in a series of lightning strikes that snaked first high across his face as if to cut away the _gurka _then flashed across his torso instead, forcing him to back a couple of steps. She never stopped testing his defense, ruthlessly pushing him back against the edges of the arena although he blocked all of her blows and was able to return more than a few that left scratches across the pale silk of her skin. 

Small beads of blood broke across her skin from the feather-light touches of his blade and Midii had the infuriating idea that this man was _toying_ with her as a cat would a mouse. And that made her angry as nothing else could. Throwing all restrictions into the wind, she fought as she had been trained to, her body unconsciously falling back into the rhythm of an assassin's stealth and a spymaster's spryness. Dimly, with some surprise, she found that she had cleared the long-knife from her belt, using it automatically to defend as her sword sought to tear a hole through _his _almost perfect guard.

He was backed up against the wall, having almost no place to go and Midii grinned triumphantly, knife spinning lazily in one hand before she dove for him…

…Only to find her blade imbedded to the hilt into the clay slab of wall where he _had_ been.

__

Sheka! Where is he—up??! Instinctively Midii threw herself aside as a shadow descended from _above_, the one place where she had not anticipated an attack coming from and she tumbled aside, her sword clattering a ways away from her. _That's crazy! No one can jump that high! _

Scrambling to her feet, she yanked at the cord that bound her dagger sheathes close and the tiny dart-like Wasps flew into her hands, each one fitting neatly between her fingers as she half-crouched expectantly, her breath rasping in and out of her lungs in painful pants. _This is bad…this is very bad._

Long-range weapons gone with only ten tiny Golden Wasps at her disposal…Midii muttered a curse under her breath. If only she could get to her boot-knife…

"Do you yield?" Kale'el's voice resounded over the roar of blood in Midii's ears and she nearly spat on the ground contemptuously. _In Istall's Hells I will! Sanq warriors do _not_ surrender!_

She merely contented herself with a growl, her eyes never leaving her opponent as they circled one another, "NO!"

As if her words had been the impetus, he lunged at her and she had no option but to dodge his attacks, daggers useless against his relentless assault. _Inshala…what am I going to do? I can't stop his sword; his reach is longer. I can't attack him directly–_

Wait a moment, why _couldn't_ she attack him directly? The rules only said that she couldn't spill his blood…it didn't say anything about not _hurting_ him, did it? After all, he deserved it…he had been hurting _her_ all this bedamned time! _Well…it's worth a try. What are they going to do…kill me?_

She flung all her daggers away except for one, clutching the thin blade as she faced him, guessing that he would try to charge her again. She was not disappointed. Her body tensed, putting the weight on the balls of her feet as she shifted slightly as if to brace herself against his attack with her left, leading foot. _Come on…just a little bit more…a little bit closer…_

He stepped within her arm grasp.

__

I can't jump as high as you, so I'll opt for this instead! Her body collapsed like a building of sticks and she twisted until she was almost sitting on the ground, just underneath the swing of his sword, her right arm raised slightly. He couldn't stop in time to avoid her; the momentum of his forward propulsion was too great and he stumbled, the first time he had done so in any match.

__

Gotcha little bird! She grinned , her outstretched hand clasping onto his wrist and her nails dug hard into his tendons. The sword dropped out of his suddenly numb fingers and before he had a chance to recover, she brought her left elbow up to slam against his stomach, knocking the wind from his lungs. Her blade flashed up, and she heard the tearing of the dagger through cloth just as she sprang free, stumbling back a few paces.

She couldn't stop a grin of feral victory from spreading across her chapped lips, causing them to crack and bleed, but she didn't notice, seeing the twin pieces of sable cloth laying in the dust as the gurka came free of his shoulders, flapping noisily in the breeze. His head remained low as he got up, bowing slowly to her and she bowed in return, more relieved than she wished to admit. This had not been easy.

"The match is finished! Show your face to your troops, Captain!" Kale'el ordered and slowly, the stranger raised his head as he stood, tall and unyielding. Midii's one remaining dagger slipped through her fingers, clattering to the dust.

"_Sheka_..."

__

***

Midii had lost her characteristic cool.

She knew it for sure when she found herself slamming her fist against the wall of her new bedroom. Unfortunately, it did not resound with the force of her blow; the thick tapestries that strung across the bare stone only pleasantly muffled the sound. Conversely, that did nothing to appease her anger and she gave in to purely emotional urges and raised her other fist to repeat that motion. 

__

Whack. 

Pain shot through her hands from her bruised knuckles but she welcomed it…well, welcomed it except for the throbbing sensation in her arms. But it detracted a little from her shame, so she felt no qualms about trying to break her hand on the wall yet again. She was furious with herself; she should have damn well _known_ better when a tall _green-eyed_ man had so cavalierly waltzed into her camp as easily and surely as if he had a right to be there. Should have known for sure when had added that cryptic remark of having his favor. In spite of knowing that he hid something, that something was not quite right about this particular young man, she felt ridiculously _betrayed_ by his close-mouthed deceit. 

Trowa-the-slightly-eccentric-stranger was no other than Trowa Barton of the _family_ of those insane bastards!! Oh wasn't she lucky…she had gotten his _favor!_

"Istall damn him and his _favor _to the Seventh Circle of everlasting perdition!" Midii hissed roundly. She tried to raise her hands for another boxing round with the wall, but they refused to cooperate, limp and slightly numb as they were. She snarled and stepped back to raise her foot instead, aiming for a particularly worn part of the tapestry. Briefly, she wondered if some other frustrated person before her had found indulgence against pitting himself against the granite barrier as well. It certainly looked like that particular section of tapestry had seen many a scuffle, judging by the many boot prints on its cloth surface.

Before she could let her heel fly, a calm voice remarked behind her, "I wouldn't do that. You might need your foot to walk tomorrow. My uncle is throwing a parade in the Company's honor." She whirled around to face him, silently cursing his muted entrance as her silver eyes stormed angrily at him, even as she thinned her lips into a mutinous white line.

__

So it's **my uncle** now, is it? Midii thought wrathfully but she composed her face into a stony expression, as revealing as the wall behind her. "Yes, _Captain_." She bit off coldly, standing with back stiffly straight as if lined against a plank.

He raised his eyebrow, closing the door behind him as he regarded her cautiously as one would regard a potentially dangerous criminal. Well wasn't she? Midii snorted quietly to herself, as she glared beyond him to sear the wooden door with her gaze. Being a double agent for a neighboring country _probably _listed very high amongst one of their potential crimes punishable by death, but of _course_ an ordinary mercenary like her was no such thing, eh?

"Your position doesn't suit your tastes? I had thought that this was what you wanted."

"It does, sir." Midii replied shortly. 

"Then maybe it's the wall you find trouble with? Or you just don't like the room?"

"Neither, sir." 

If anything, his eyebrow rose higher. "I…see. And since, from my observation, you aren't one to kick walls for no reason, I assume you are disgruntled because…?"

"Of reason, there is none, Captain." Midii answered stiffly, wondering where this interrogation was going. For the most part, she had gotten her anger under control so that it barely simmered in the bland dove-gray of her eyes. She hadn't gotten this facet of her job down perfectly but it served well enough, covering her emotions in a blanket of polite disinterest. He saw through it in an instant.

"You lie."

__

And he is allowed to speak of lying_??_ But she said nothing as he walked closer, his emerald eyes scrutinizing her blank face and a flicker of disappointment crossed his face.

"As your commanding officer, I need to know that you, as my second in command, will always be truthful with me, Shibai."

"When already know the truth, you do, sir?" Midii asked, rather more sharply than she intended.

"Especially then." 

"Very well." Midii took a deep breath then hissed viciously, "A _Barton_, you are, not common mercenary as led to believe I was!"

"I never said as much," Trowa pointed out calmly. Midii wished she could have kicked him.

"Presume, I did. Stupid of me." Her eyes narrowed into wintery slits. "The time after, presume as much I will _not, _Captain."

"Good."

The calm smile on his face left her feeling as if she had been outwitted at some point but if she was, she neither cared nor wanted to know when or how it had come about. Instead, she turned about abruptly, snatching the bandages and ointment from her open carisak and flinging them both down on the small table top with unnecessary force. She pulled off her gloves to reveal the cyclone blue and green of a bruise already starting along the line of her knuckles and began to smear the bruise-balm across her skin. 

"For a reason, did you come, Captain?" Her voice was brisk, business-like as she felt rather than saw him sit into the chair adjacent to hers, his eyes still studying her intently.

"To see if your wounds—" Midii scoffed, glancing at him scornfully and a small smile drifted across his face again, "No…I suppose those were only mere scratches to you."

"Insignificant." Midii averred coldly. "What business? Like, I do not, these idle hands."

"It seems that your hands have not been all that idle," Trowa returned dryly, then spread a sheaf of parchment across the table, sliding it towards her along with a silver insignia. "This is your contract, a list of your duties and obligations to _me_, not the Mid-Lands. Those oaths you will swear in tomorrow's ceremony. This," He tapped the ornament with a finger, "is a seal of your rank and standing in the Imperial Army. Wear it proudly and don't dishonor it."

__

Dishonor it? Like taking this information back to the Sanq Kingdom? Midii thought with a twinge of guilt. But she brushed it off, remembering the brutality and carnage she had seen when on patrol of the border cities. New-made orphans looking up at her with dead, stark eyes. The scent of burning corpses under the hot, dry sun…_If this lie be on my head, so be it…if it may save the others._

Curtly, she grabbed at a quill and inkpot to sign the document but Trowa held up a hand, "Shibai…this is an oath-fasting. It requires…more…than just ink."

Midii tightened her lips. An oath-fasting was something more than just a contract, it was a bond by _blood_. Not even these Mid-Land bastards took such a thing lightly…In the Sanq, oaths bound by blood were second only to those to the Gods. Blood to keep, blood ever-binding, that was the law that transcended national boundaries. But how could she keep true to the blood-word she had given to her country and still keep her word in this?

Impossible. But the guilt on her soul was hers to bear. 

Without giving it a second thought, she slid the dagger from her sleeve and drew it across her right forefinger, watching as the wine-red rivulets of blood seeped down to pool into her palm. It shimmered coldly, as if mocking her duplicity, jeering her with the warped, refracting images it threw back at her. She dipped the feather quickly in the red liquid and without looking, quickly signed her name. She dipped her thumb in the blood and pressed it against the vellum, feeling droplets seep into the paper.

"There, done it is." She pushed the document back at Trowa, toweling her hands off roughly, scrubbing her palm of any sign of her deceit. She felt…soiled, ashamed of herself. Pushing to her feet, she walked over to her window to brace her hands on the sill as she stared blindly at the bustling city below her, filled with hawking merchants and yelling children, guardsmen and fishwives. Her enemies…and yet now, also her responsibilities. 

"You may go anywhere you wish in the city today, Shibai," Trowa said from behind her, "Just wear your rank visibly at all times."  
"Ah. I believe I will, Captain." She murmured automatically and after a while, heard the scrape of the closing wooden door against the stone floor. Once she was sure that he was gone, she dropped her head, her fingers wrapping around her arms. "Damn…I was prepared to be a deceiver…now you would make me an oathbreaker as well, Trowa Barton?"

***

For the months afterwards, Midii, along with the rest of the Company, drilled relentlessly, honing their skills to a swords edge until Midii felt that she had been born with a blade in her hand. It was a disconcerting feeling when she knew by name the men she trained with, called greetings to them every rising. She tried not to get too attached, but such intimacy was inevitable when dealing with a unit as small as _Kas'even-ra_. It began to feel…almost…like a family.

Midii pushed that disturbing thought from her mind as she walked briskly down the streets of _Vala'kai_, only absently letting a wary eye skim the marketplace for any danger. But people kept a respectful distance away, bowing slightly when they saw the silver crest that she wore upon her cloak. It seemed that an officer of any rank in the Imperial Army was treated with an almost reverent awe; upon entering the tavern, the bartender that had once given her stale beer hastened to bring out the best wines in her presence, almost anxiously fawning over her until she dismissed him with a curt word. This hero-worship annoyed her.

"Well lass, seems t'me that ye 'ave moved up in th'world." 

Midii glanced up as a familiar shadow blocked the meager light that was coming from the cloudy-glassed window, and a grin played around her mouth as she leapt to her feet, pounding Odin on the back enthusiastically in greeting.

"Rapscallion ," She shot back, shoving him into the adjoining seat, "Been a long time, it has, Odin Lowe! Get away sooner, I tried to, but taken up my time has training and duties." She looked critically up and down at him as he helped himself to a glass of wine, "Not bad do you look either. A little worn around the edges. Slept, have you not?"

Odin grinned crookedly, "Heh. When I be not worryin' for ye. Almost wanted t'march up t'the palace an'pound on yer door from time t'time. Ye've been gone long. Kept on 'avin these feelin's that ye were in trouble or somethin' like that, but seems t'me that ye've passed wi'flyin colors."

"Difficult it was," Midii sighed quietly, "Repeat it, I would not. Not for the world on a silver platter." Abruptly, she changed the subject, leaning forward intently, "Letters do you have for me from my mother? Miss her, I do," She added innocuously, just in case anyone was listening.

"Aye, actually," Odin pulled out a stained envelope from his breast pocket, slightly torn in one corner but otherwise intact. He slid the correspondence towards her and leaned back in his chair as she reached for it, slipping it into the front of her tunic after she read the terse message. _Birds, when kept in the dark, grow restless. Light will help them grow strong and prosper._ "How's th'military life settin' wi'ye, Shibai?

Expected, as well as can be," She replied, taking her mind off the two lines. Lady Une had not even bothered with formal greeting or sentimentality; not that Midii was surprised. But still… "Not bad are the men…after one or two beatings they received by my hand. Tiring sometimes though…" Her voice slipped into a whisper, "the pretense."

"They be mercenaries, Shibai." Odin warned, "An' no matter how much ye like 'em, a leopard canna hide its spots; most of em would sell ther mum's soul fer a sack a'gold. Ye should'na waste yer guilt on them. T'is all a war game to them…to all warriors like them."

Midii glanced at him sharply, retorting softly for his ears only, "In this Sanq, true this is not. Chosen for honor and skill are all our warriors. Few traitors there are, if any; loyalty to the Prelate Kilan is unwavering amongst her guards and her people."

"Yeah?" Odin's voice was a torn between disbelief and a wistful rumble as he lifted his glass to his lips again, taking a deep drink as if to try to wash the bitterness from his mouth. "P'raps I'll go wi'ye t'the Kingdom when ye leave an'see how true that is. One sickens of lies n'shadows an' tha's all ye shall find in th'Mid-Lands. That an'the smell a'blood. Ev'rywhere. S'a stink that ye canna get rid of, no matter how far away from th'battlefield you run. S'like a disease tha's spread throughout th'lands."

Midii glanced at him, her gray eyes softening into something resembling compassion, "When leave I do, come with me you shall. And prove I will that these words at least are not lies, even though surround myself with them I have."

"Ah, I'll keep ye to yer word, lass. Now," He glanced around them, his slouched position masking the alert caution that made his eyes bright and wary. "Ye better be goin'. Don't be trusting anyone, Shibai."

"Take your advice to heart, I will," Midii murmured, rising to her feet. "Have care, my friend. Like I do, your head on your shoulders, not hanging from the gallows." She clasped his hand briefly in hers before moving away, her black cloak flapping soundlessly at her back as she stepped back into the streaming sunlight, her head high and step firm.

She never looked behind to see the man rise from the table, quietly slipping out a back entrance.

***

You went to the _ayamid_ today, Shibai?"

Midii threw a startled glance at the waiting man in her room as she entered the door, tossing the cloak negligently onto the bed.

"Captain," She greeted, sitting on the edge of the bed. She began to pull off her uncomfortable boots as she asked questioningly, "Should not you be at the Tactical Meeting?"

Trowa grimaced, "No, thank you. I don't agree with their campaign tactics and the _Kas'even_-ra will _not_ engage in that kind of battle. I will not throw away my men and resources to raze a civilian village."

Midii nodded briefly. She had learned that Trowa Barton was not like other Mid-Land commanders. He had a code of honor that he abided by, thinking of his men and responsibilities before thinking of his own personal comfort. He was a ruthless leader, perfecting every person's skills until it reached its highest capabilities, but he was also a kind leader as well, which was rare. He would never ask any man to do what he himself was not willing to do. It was that honor that had earned him Midii's respect and cautious trust; she was more than grateful that he was her Captain. 

Sometimes, he reminded her of the officers she had served under in the Sanq army, conscientious and honorable…but she would never forget that he was capable of deceit if he wanted to. Not even the intervening months could erase the memory of his deception.

"Ah." She nodded simply in understanding, leaning forward until her elbows rested on her knees. "Another argument did you have with the High Commander?"

Trowa smiled wearily, "Another argument." He repeated, "How little that says. It is like saying that a stablemaster will get a _little_ angry if you steal one of the Mid-Land war stallions. Or that the winds that blow across the _Dashva_ Plains are mere breezes."

Midii winced. "That bad?"

"Worse. There are times when I believe that—" Trowa checked himself abruptly, snapping his jaws close as if on the verge of realizing that he had been about to reveal too much. His face went suddenly and very carefully emotionless as he regarded her with restless, contemplative green eyes and she gazed back at him steadily, knowing that he was looking for any sign of disloyalty in her expression, for any sign of guilt or unease. 

It was only to be expected actually; the Imperial Palace was a web of shadows beneath shadows, politics made up of meaningless words and vicious power plays. For all he knew, she could have easily been a plant from one of his rivals, maybe even his own uncle, to make sure that he stayed loyal to the Mid-Lands. His scrutiny lasted for a few minutes. Then he broke his gaze, a rueful laugh escaping from his lips. It had a rusty quality to it, as if he hadn't laughed in a long time, which was a pity. He did have a nice laugh.

"There is so much conspiracy within these walls that now, I see everything as a part of it." Midii said nothing, only raised her eyebrow in an invitation to speak. "The High Commanders have become so immersed in war and blood sport that they cannot see that the Mid-Lands are falling to the dust, right beneath their nose. Our people are dying, Shibai…and all they can think of is to conquer new lands. And what then? Have the senile old fools thought about how we will feed and clothe the people of these new territories? And still they conscript more men from the fields, fumble-fingered plowboys thrown to the front lines with little or no battle training. Idiots!"

Midii's eyes widened. "Careful, Captain" She cautioned quickly, "Treasonous, you words can be interpreted as." _And the walls have ears._ That warning didn't need to be said; everyone who set foot in the palace knew that fact as well as the next. 

"Treasonous?" Trowa asked bitterly, "And what of our broken promises to the people of this empire?"

"Quiet!" Midii hissed, alarm making her snappish. "Foolish man! _Think_ only of these things in the privacy of your mind. Say nothing aloud!"

Trowa smiled wryly, leaning back into the throwback of his chair, his features settled into the lines of brooding. "Silence is what caused this to happen in the first place. People drunken on power, craving for more as an addict does, take advantage of it. And then, things all go out of contro—" 

__

Damn…Swiftly, Midii crossed the room, unsheathing her knife. In one quick movement, she had it pressed against the vulnerable point where Trowa's neck and chin joined, causing him to abruptly stop speaking. 

"Quiet." She emphasized her low warning with a slight pressure of her blade, a thin line of blood slipping down the silver-edged knife where the skin had parted. "Speak too much, you do, Trowa. The wisest is he who speaks least and watches all."

Trowa looked up at her with unafraid emerald eyes, his face devoid of expression. "So, you _were_ sent to spy on me. Who was it? Uncle Kale'el? The Generals?" Midii snorted in disgust, whipping her knife away from his neck as she turned away, flicking into the spring-sheathe at her belt.

"Nooo…." She twisted her words sarcastically so that he wouldn't know the truth in her derisive drawl as she tossed herself back onto her cot. "Sent I was by Prelate _Kilan_ of course. Come I have from the _Sanq _Kingdom to spy on you and the Mid-Lands, because, of course, _so_ resemble do I those pacifists." Midii blessed the fact that the Outlanders always underestimated those that came from Sanq when she heard Trowa's amused snort, telling her that he didn't buy it in the least bit. To reinforce his misconception, she snapped, "If truly a spy I was from the High Commander, let you I would, run that stupid tongue of yours and carry word back to him like his faithful bitch." She stretched out on the bed, feeling a few joints pop loudly. "Maybe I should. Lucrative, it would be." She smirked evilly at him and he laughed a little, relaxing slightly.

"Greedy," He muttered, his eyes were half-lidded as he folded his fingers in front of him. 

"Of course. Mercenary I am," Midii countered coolly.

"Really?" There was a hint of a smile in Trowa's voice, "Mercenaries don't have honor. Then why have I…why _do _I trust you?"

Midii's blood ran cold. Trust? Since when had that come about? She didn't want him to trust her fully…she didn't want to trust _him_ fully. It would just make her betrayal later all more painful for both of them. Ties of faith were not supposed to happen; this was supposed to be a simple mission with a simple objective…she had obviously miscalculated on one point. Humanity for one…and emotions. She cursed silently as she stared up blindly at the ceiling, hands folded beneath her head.

"No answer, Shibai?"

"One," She replied, more brusquely then she had intended. "Because foolish, you obviously are. As I have said." She turned her back to him, ignoring his chuckle.

***

As his second-in-command, Midii learned to know Trowa better than most people as he often came to her for advice and sometimes, simply company. She was unaccountably pleased by that attention, and his trust, doing everything in her power to ensure that it was not an unfounded faith. So far, she had been able to balance out both of her loyalties since the Mid-Lands had made no offensive move. But things were changing swiftly; a year had passed and there was a smell of blood in the air.

Her Company-mates were eager for real battle, wanting to test their sharp blades against more than straw dolls in dull practice fields and Midii couldn't blame them. There was a sense of restlessness that became apparent as tempers grew short and provocation grew easier. It worried Midii. When the men were ready to move like that, it usually meant that something was about to begin, that assignments were soon to be handed out. 

She was almost afraid of what the unit would be assigned to do…no…she was terrified. When the time came, would she have to ride with them to level a poor border village? To massacre and kill…? Midii swallowed queasily and shook her head. Fighting well-seasoned, battle-ready men was one thing; she had trained to do that all her life. Senseless slaughter was something else altogether, something that all of Midii's upbringing rebelled against. After all, these were _people_, civilians…how could they defend against a fully trained mercenary company? 

Trowa seemed of the same mind, thankfully. His long discussions with Kale'el and his refusal to use the _Kas'even-ra _in that way had, for now, kept the company from the slaughter fields. But Kale'el was growing angry with his nephew's obstinacy, even the palace fools could see that, and Midii had no doubt that sooner or later, (sooner, she privately thought) they _would_ be sent on a raid as a 'test' to see how well they worked together.

__

Fine test, Midii thought bitterly, _when so many must die for it…_

The door suddenly slammed open and Midii's heart gave an unexpected lurch, especially when she saw the angry heat that spread across Trowa's fair skin. She didn't need him to tell her that her guess had been dead on the mark.

"So," She said softly, more to herself than to him, "it begins."

Trowa nodded curtly, barely contained fury leashed in his turbid eyes, so bright that they gleamed emerald. "We leave in a week. North to attack the Semni Village in the Sanq Border."

Midii's stomach dropped into her feet. "In the _Sanq Kingdom?_" She whispered hoarsely. "But _pacifists_ they are! What threat are they?"

"None." Trowa bit off the word like an epithet, "But my uncle believes that I have grown soft and I need an _easy_ conquest, a victory that will assure the rest of the war council that I am worthy of the honor of being Captain of this Company." He paused momentarily. "It will be a slaughter, of course." There was a slight strain in his voice, but he had gotten a semblance of control back into his demeanor as he sat back in his seat. "Tell me, my second, why the Council would order such an action to be done."

Midii was asking herself the same thing as she sat down numbly beside him, her bone of her knuckles shone white against her skin as she dug her nails into her palms. She felt him gently but firmly loosened her clenched hands, sliding his long, warm fingers into her palm before intertwining with hers. There was reassurance in that touch, as if that link represented the last bit of sanity there was in the world. Maybe it was. Maybe the world had gone insane around them.

"Impossible…" Midii murmured incredulously.

"You shouldn't be surprised," Trowa told her, "It will not be the first time when the army is deployed in a show of strength against other nations. They must be reminded, must the not? Of their own mortality and the Mid-Lands strength. That is as it always has been." 

Midii almost pulled her hand from his, appalled by his brutality, but he tightened his grip until she felt bruises start to form where his fingers pressed. His gaze sparkled challengingly as he asked coldly, "Would you do it, Shibai? If I ordered you to kill helpless men and women in order to prove the strength of the Mid-Lands, would you lead _Kas'even-ra_ to butcher a town full of innocent people?"

Her face was blank as she considered the question but her mind spun frantically. It was on the tip of her tongue to say 'yes'; was that the answer he wanted? There was a dark gleam in his eye that told her that this interrogation was more than that, that it was yet another test of some sort, but to prove what? Her loyalty? She had given every impression of loyalty within the year that she had been his second in command; the secret letters that she sent back to her mother spoke only of the government in general, of things that she would have known sooner or later. She had not yet needed to break her oath to Trowa although the one to the Mid-Lands might have been broken long ago. She had not yet needed to do anything that would harm _Kas'even-ra_.

Would she need to now? 

The question demanded an answer which, Midii knew, would be an important part of how Trowa regarded her from this point on. Yes or no, which one did he expect? Yes was the most obvious answer; it was the answer that any true mercenary would have given without a thought…but it wasn't true. Briefly, a thought flashed through her mind, of something that he had said once before; '_As your commanding officer, I need to know that you, as my second in command, will always be truthful with me, Shibai'_ Did he mean that? Midii closed her eyes for a second, then opened them, the gray of her eyes lightened to an ash color. _Inshala…let this be the right answer…._

"I would not."

His green eyes were intense, clashing with the gray of hers as they locked gazes in a battle of wills. Then suddenly, the tenseness in his face loosened and his deathgrip relaxed. He brought her hand up, pressing his lips against the back of her fingers, making her shiver before he said softly, "Thank you."

"Why?" Midii's eyes were wide and he looked up, an incredibly beautiful smile tracing his thin lips as he pulled her closer.

"For justifying my faith in your honor…and you." His lips touched hers, a kiss that slowly deepened in an exploration of taste and texture as his arms wrapped against her tightly. Vaguely Midii knew that she should call it off. Knew that this, if anything, would endanger the mission more than any other thing she had ever done. Then there was no wish to think at all. 

The sky had darkened to dusky reds streaked with violet as twilight replaced the heat of the day. Absently, Midii could feel the feather-light touch of Trowa's fingers against her arms, slowly tracing the white lines of old scars and smiled softly, leaning back against his chest. The beat of his heart drummed comfortingly beneath her ear, in tandem with each slow, steady breath that filled his lungs. She felt so alive, as if each sense had been sharpened so each feeling, every taste, scent, was curiously distinct and detached from the rest. 

He shifted slightly behind her, his lips coming to touch her bare shoulder, making her skin leap. "You were a long time learning the trade of a mercenary, weren't you?"

Midii stiffened slightly. Why did he have to ruin such a wonderful communion with that topic? Once again, memories of her betrayal, her duplicity, assailed her, and her cheeks flamed as she ducked her head, ashamed at herself and the lies that she had told. And she felt even worse knowing that she would continue to tell those lies in spite of everything She bit her lip, closing her eyes tightly as she imagined the battle that would take place once she returned the information to her mother. Instead of a helpless village, the _Kas'even-ra_ would arrive to find an army against them. 

Would she have to kill Trowa?

"No choice I had in my trade," Midii said softly, more to herself than to him, "It was forced upon me. I had no choice." She was silent for a while, listening to his even breathing before she asked hesitantly, "What of the Semni Village? What will you do?"

Trowa sighed heavily, stirring wisps of hair to drift gently across her forehead and eyes. Gently, almost tenderly, he brushed them back, smoothing the ash-blond strands behind her ear. "The _Kas'even-ra_ isn't going."

Midii jerked her head around, eyes flaring wide. "What?"

An amused smile lifted Trowa's lips and a brief spark of humor touched his brilliant eyes. "You sound surprised, Shibai. I thought you knew me better than that."

"Kill you, your uncle will!" Shibai sat up, holding the coverlet across her breasts as she stared down at her lover. "Tolerate your insubordination, he will not! Not so soon after the last time! You can't—"

"And what should I do then?" Trowa countered. He shook his head, laughing lightly, bitterly, "Cursed if I do, cursed if I don't; the Gods must be laughing, Shibai. It is such a joke. And my uncle? Oh, he will say that I have a duty to my people, that I must serve the Mid-Lands…but nothing in my oaths say anything about murder." There was such an expression of determination in his face that Midii knew that he was completely serious, that he would literally die for what he believed in. That realization put her in a bit of a panic and when she tried to analyze why, she got a nasty shock.

She had gone and fallen in love with him.

It was a stupid thing to do and she knew it. A mercenary, much less a spy, did not go and compromise her position by letting her emotions get in the way; she wasn't supposed to _feel_ anything for this foreigner, only loyalty to her country. But that was exactly what she had done. How stupid could she be??

"Shibai?" She felt his long arms curl around her waist, moving down her own tense arms as he pulled her into his chest. "There is no reason to be distressed. I know exactly what I'm doing."

"Do you?" Midii queried harshly, "Truly, do you? Your death warrant do you sign!"

"I know." His calm acceptance momentarily robbed her of speech as he continued firmly, "But I have had the honor training the _Kas'even-ra_ and that of being its Captain. I have little regrets in this life." His voice was warm as he added, "And then, I have met you. And that, I think, is enough."

Midii closed her eyes briefly, coming to a quick conclusion. "And if I am not all I seem to be?" 

His action was swift, almost violent as he shoved away from her, springing out of the cot to back up one or two steps. Her _Malrik_, once harsh and cracked, had become accentless, completely flawless in pronunciation or grammar. His green eyes narrowed in confusion and the dawning of anger as he stared at her as if she had suddenly become a serpent in his bed, fangs bared and poisonous.

"What is the meaning of this? Who are you?"

Midii swallowed hard; she might very well die for this. She kept her eyes shuttered, not wanting to see the trust in his face turn to hate. "A spy, as you first thought I was. But not for Kale'el…I spoke the truth when I said once that I was sent by Prelate Kilan to ferret information back to the Sanq."

"You spoke in jest…" Hurt laced with rage deepened his voice, making it harsh. "You lied to me!"

Midii shook her head, clenching her fists. "I am who I said; I merely did not say all who I am." When he did not respond, she added achingly, "I know that I broke my oaths to the Mid-Lands, but I broke no promises to you or the _Kas'even-ra_, even though I could have."

"You could have," Trowa said harshly, "but it was on the trust that you _would_ not that you were made my second-in-command!" Fingers bit into the skin of her shoulders, and suddenly she felt him shaking her until she opened her eyes, wet with unshed tears. "How could you do this to the Mid-Lands…to me!" Accusation was taut in every line of his face, mistrust darkening his eyes until they were almost black. She had never seen him this angry before and he shook her again until she felt as if her head would come loose from her neck, but she didn't fight him; she had known he would react like this if he ever found out. Loyalty for loyalty, that was what he believed in. To betray that confidence…

"I told you, I had no choice!' Midii cried back, "The Mid-Lands were killing my people! _I…had…to!_" 

He turned away as if he couldn't bear the sight of her, raking his fingers into his hair. "Why are you telling me this now?" He demanded, "Because you want me to spare the village? Do you think that because you are from that country, I will be more merciful towards them?"

"No." Midii whispered. "It is because I don't want to see you die." He stared at her for a second, then crossed the room in one long stride, sweeping her up in his arms. If his kiss was a little more punishing than before, Midii didn't complain.

***

__

'My contact and I will meet you in the alley behind the Red Fox's Tavern at twilight. Be careful, Trowa. Make sure no one sees you leaving the palace.

Midii shifted her weight from her left foot to her right, restlessly waiting for Trowa to show up. Beside her, Odin was equally nervous, eyes flicking uneasily to and fro in the darkness, bare knives held in his hands. The wind keened bitterly, pushing through even Midii's heavy cloak and tunic but she didn't mind, lost in thought as she was. She couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that something was wrong, especially since Trowa was so late. Before she had left, she had given him the warning and meeting time and place, only to be met with his inscrutable gaze and low mutter. 

But then again, as the time of their departure for the Sanq had drawn closer, he had withdrawn from the previous closeness that they had shared. Sometimes, she saw the skepticism in the quick, sharp, glances he threw at her and her heart ached. It would take time before he would be able to trust her again…a long time. But she prayed that he believed her this time at least…because she didn't know what to do if he didn't.

"Ye are sure that he will be here, lass?" Odin's voice was low in her ear, echoing Midii's own misgivings, but she pushed them away, her face set.

"Yes," she whispered back, "I trust him."

"If ye are sure…" Odin glanced at her doubtfully, "But I dinna understand. Why would ye trust yer life in th'hands of a Barton?"

"I believe that no matter the name, there is an essential goodness in everyone. He has a code of honor, Odin, and I would trust him to guard my back, as I would trust you." There was a tacit reminder in Midii's voice as she subtly reminded him that he too had once born the name of Barton as well, even though those days were long past. "People change, Odin…don't you think?"

"Sometimes," Odin agreed pensively. Before he could say more, Midii held up a hand, catching the flash of stark gray tunics and crimson sashes. "Odin…who are they?" She asked softly, watching them approach. "They're the same gang I saw when I first got here." 

Odin turned his head, then cursed heavily, "That ain't just any gang, Shibai. Those be th'Bartons bunch a'bully boys. They make sure tha'all who live in _Vala_-_kai_ bow before their word an' stop anyone from breathin' a word otherwise. If they be here…hope they be not after us, lass." He squared his shoulders then, rising to his full height as he demanded belligerently, "What be ye scamps doin 'ere after dark? Canna ye see we be after some privacy?"

The leader didn't take the bait, even though the youngsters stopped in their tracks at the mouth of the alley. "Shibai Hitori?" Midii's breath caught, telling them all they needed to know. A long, wicked blade flashed out, gleaming like oil in the moonlight. "Trowa Barton sends his regards."

end flashback

She had almost died that night when a dagger had plunged into her breast, narrowly missing the heart. The pain had been so great that unconsciousness had stolen across her senses. When she next awoke, she found herself tied to the back a horse, racing across the Mid-Land countryside towards the northern border. If it hadn't been for Odin, she would have surely died, weak with blood loss and near crossing the thin line towards insanity. Trowa had betrayed her…it had taken so long for her to accept that fact, and not long after for her pain to turn into a killing rage.

She had learned her lesson well that night, on the opposite end of a killing blade: never trust your enemy. Never. It was not a lesson that she would soon forget.

"Shibai…" His voice was a mere whisper on the wind, breaking through the tense silence and Midii smiled cruelly.

"What, do you think you see a ghost, Trowa Barton? I'm real blood and flesh." Her voice hissed from between her teeth. "Why are you here?"

Trowa stiffened, letting his arms drop to his sides, his expression turning distant. "I left the Mid-Lands…soon after. My uncle told me that they had discovered that you were a spy and had you killed."

Her traitorous heart gave a lurching thud, guilty pleasure thrilling through her veins, but Midii mentally stamped it to death, her face hardening into a mask of hatred. She glared coldly, gleaming malevolence turning her eyes molten silver as she clenched her fists, unable to believe that he thought her so stupid…and unable to believe that she so very much wanted to trust his words even though she knew he lied. Quietly, furiously, she replied, "With a word and a kiss, you made me a whore. Then you twisted my trust and ordered my death. I was foolish, but I am no longer so naïve as to trust in the word of a _Barton_!" She spat into the grass, as if to rid herself of the vile taste of the word and abruptly, turned on a heel, rapidly walking back towards the mansion.

"Where are you going?" His voice was still calm, sounding reasonable with the reassuring lilt that seemed to imply that he was harmless and trustworthy. But she knew better. Trowa Barton was as trustworthy as a crystal snake waiting to strike.

"Back," Midii snapped, "You are the traitor in our midst."

"Really?" Now Trowa's voice turned cold, like the icy winds of the Far Northern country where temperatures dropped well below freezing and where men who ventured forth in a blizzard could find themselves frozen motionless in their tracks. Certainly it stopped Midii in her tracks. "Don't be foolish. If you reveal that, the delegation from the Sanq Kingdom will leave. The alliance will be doomed. But," He taunted mockingly, "that would be exactly what I want. So please, go in with your accusations. It will be amusing to see my uncle's army rout this country first, then go on to the Sanq Kingdom. Is that what you want?"

Midii's fingers clenched into fists to keep from grasping a hold of her twin knives…she positively ached…yearned to. Instead, she glanced at him, for a second, her true emotions coming to the surface: anger, helplessness…and something else. Then her eyes froze again into cold fury. A single word whispered past her lips, filled with anguished accusation.

"Oathbreaker…"

A brief expression of pain flitted across his face. "Shibai–"

"No." Midii turned away, her head lifted to the ever-so blue skies as she rejected his words. "I am Midii Une, warrior of the Sanq Kingdom. I am not she. Shibai Hitori lies dead in that filthy alley back in _Vala-kai…_and you killed her."

tbc……..

AN: YATTA!!!!!!!! *ducks as readers pelt her with rotten tomatoes* Er….gomen nasai! GOMEN! *nervously* A…um…_little_ character torture was needed, ne? -_-;; No one said this would be a happy fic!! *wince* oh…I should not have said that. *readers glower* Well, you expected who the traitor was, ne? More than half of you thought it was Trowa…so no big surprise, ne? o.O Trowa, save me!!!! *dives behind the tall Latin pilot.*

Trowa: *glares*

Midii: *glares* I say we let her get what she deserves.

Trowa: Hn. 

*Both walk away*

Sable: Eh heh heh…oi…^^;;

__

Index for Sanq Words:

Gaku: a man's over robe. It is about mid-thigh length with long slits up the sides to make for easier movement. This is usually a favored form of dress because in the loose material, one can hide a great many things, including knives, daggers, or stolen goods.

__

Ayamid: marketplace

__

Harika: powerful hallucinogen 

__

Surku: a light intoxicant

__

Kan'ju: this word is basically a shortened slang version of _kanharan junta_, which is a sect of battle priests that worship _Kanryu. _They believe that the highest honor is to die on the battlefield, which makes them ideal for suicide runners in an army.

__

Sa: I see.

__

Sheka: a curse, something like the four letter words that regularly punctuate our own diction ^~

****

Dark Ayanami, MaraLaeh Lynn, Tisa, Savy, Angelic1090, Kou-chan, SilverWing, Ley, sorrow, jenna: arigato minna! ^^ I hope that you like this chapter too and met your expectations! You guys are all so supportive and I love it when u review!! I'm SO sorry it took this long to post…

****

Kristine: *Sigh* thank you K-chan for making sure I finished this…even when I fought you every step of the way and threatened to kill you with an Agiel if you didn't stop bugging me…*sheepish grin* Thank God for you; you make sure I keep on writing through it all!

****

Athame: Grr…meant to I didn't! Tease me, do not! Help it, I couldn't! *snickers and grins* 

****

Mama-sama: yep, there will be more Duo/Hilde in the future, of course! ^^;; Gods, just my luck to have a yoda-sounding girl a few weeks before/after Star Wars came out, eh?

****

Meio-chan: hee hee…Midii met Trowa…they just parted really…really badly. -_-;; OI…understatement anyone?

****

Figgy, Nova: *Sheepish grin* sometimes I _hate_ the detail that I go into...because I'm _not_ a patient writer and yet I hate it when parts of the fic are undetailed…which puts me into a quandary! -_-;; Because of it, I usually end up swearing up and down that I hate the fic and may my fingers be cut off before I write again…as I'm writing the chapter of course….lol. My whole thing is that if people can't imagine what's going on, then I'm not writing well enough. I _try_ to stick to that policy…usually I don't succeed very well. -_-;;

****

Cheenjeehan: Thanks! Although technically, Relena isn't _below_ Dorothy in rank, it sometimes seems that way, doesn't it? Especially with all the cleaning up she has to do after her foster sib, huh? Lol…but as all older siblings know, cleaning up after your younger sister is something that we _always_ have to do.

****

Relena Maxwell: LOL! Of course, Rel will kick more butt! *evil grin* why not? And technically tho, she _is_ of high stature…after all, she's a noble and people don't just pick anyone to be a Preventor's Captain. ^^ 

****

Vicky McKillop: hi! 

I had Midii talk strangely because it's an accent of the outer lands where she supposedly came from and stayed for a full year trying to learn the language. When you learn a new language, grammar always gets messed up, especially in the countryside where dialects etc might be different. Look at China! A few hundred years and we have like a thousand and one dialects. ^^ Also, I wanted it so that at the end, she could change the way she spoke, which would tell Trowa more than anything that she was not who she said she was. Gomen nasai!! . I promise to get back to 1xR and a little 2xH next chapter because truthfully, I am SOOOOOO sick of Trowa and Midii right now. BLAH!! After writing twenty+ pages about them……GAH!!!!!!!! No more! Not for a long while! *mutters* 

lol…^^ feel free to criticize, it helps me figure out what I'm doing wrong and fix it, which is important to me! Sometimes, a good critique is better than praise.

Thanks for all your reviews guys! ^^ And to all my readers, arigato for your support!


	9. Chapter 7 (Got it out in time....@_@)

Chapter Seven

Midii walked rapidly through the darkening halls, the loud tap-taps of her feet echoing strangely in the long expanse of marble and inlayed granite. Her face, ensconced by flickering shadows and the weird, writhing candlelight, was unreadable, as singularly imperturbable as a smooth porcelain mask. Even her eyes were opaque gray, so forcefully blank of all emotion that one could not help but feel that behind those orbs, there was a mind seething and roiling with frantic conflict. 

_What should I do?_

It had been an unwelcome shock, confronting Trowa here in what she had thought was an ally's lair but her mind had already jumped ahead of that to the political ramifications of his presence. Probables said that the Bartons had sent plants in the Dominion as they had in all other surrounding countries. There were spies in the Sanq too, of that Midii was completely certain, so the fact that there was a spy in the Dominion was in itself unimportant. 

The question was why Trowa, a man of noble birthright and commander of his own army? Where was the _Kas'even-ra now? Poised at the border's edge, ready to strike? Was the White Fang Dominion the Midland's next target? Or did that mean that the Sanq Kingdom had been betrayed and the Dominion had clandestinely allied itself with the Bartons? So many questions, so many possibilities, none of them good. _

What a trying situation this was. 

Her feet stopped and she looked blindly ahead, letting herself indulge in the weakness of showing a moment's emotion, of clenching her hands into knotted fists. _If the Bartons are involved, every motive now has a new dimension to it. Gods damn them for being such ubiquitous little critters. They're like bugs in summer: you keep on squashing them and they keep on turning up to sting the hell out of you._

"Midii!" 

She stopped, turning slightly as an exuberant shadow seemed to pull itself from the walls and plaster her with a ramming bear hug. 

"Idiot." She acknowledged calmly, not even bothering to try squirming out of his death grip. Duo laughed, slamming his hand against his chest and slumping over dramatically as if he had just been stabbed with a dagger. For extra effect he let out a theatrical groan, obviously carefully rehearsed and cultivated to near perfection to be used in conjunction with his charming violet puppy eyes. Midii smiled distantly, something that might have been affection lurking in the fathomless silver-blue depths of her eyes. The baka. He never changed; not one bit.

When she refused to humor him, Duo added cheerfully, "Ouch! That really hurt. Cut me to the quick. I might never recover, you know, since I'm so sensitive and all." Midii merely snorted, and he fell into step beside her, whistling a merry ditty. "Where you goin'?"

"No where, really." Midii answered quietly. "Maybe walk around to get a mental layout of the complex. To check on Lady Relena, perhaps, since there are some things I need to talk to her about." 

"Good. The rest of us are converged around ojou-san's room anyway so we're going in the same direction." He slung an arm around her shoulders, ignoring her immediate stiffening. "Oi…don't tell me after all this time you're still the antisocial hide-me-in-a-corner Wallflower!" Middi grimaced at the old nickname, but before she could open her mouth to retaliate, Duo continued quickly, "We've been exiled to this godforsaken place for what, two months? You can give us news of home, then, to stop us from running home like a bunch of jackrabbits to assure ourselves personally that everything's ok."

"Home…?" Midii repeated, then grimaced slightly, "If you wish. But I have more important—"

"Nothing," Duo interrupted firmly, "is more important than home." They had reached Relena's door and with an evil grin, Duo gave her a slight shove, making her stumble into the room with a bitten off curse. Hands immediately encircled her shoulders and waist to keep her from falling and voices rose in scolding protests.

"Duo, you ever-cursed idiot!" "Yes, that's the way to treat friends, you stupid Maxwell; help her crack her head across the threshold." "Duo Maxwell! If you ever—"

"Oi oi!" Duo held his hands up in mock surrender, then stuffed them in his pockets, leaning against the doorframe with an impudent shrug. "Just dragging Wallflower from her hidey hole. No harm done…right?" If anything, his lips stretched even wider, and it was clear to every single one of them that he was well pleased with himself.

Midii glared at him, then straightened herself out before she turned to stare at the assemblage in Relena's room. Hilde, Duo, Odin, that Dominon warrior from before, Heero….she coughed meaningfully, making all the Preventors shuffled guiltily away from her gaze. A single, blonde brow rose. "I thought Miss Sally ordered Lady Relena to be left alone until she was better. In fact…" Her eyes alighted on Odin and Duo, who looked up at the ceiling innocently, "I'm almost certain that you two were supposed to guard Relena against this."

"Oh well, you know how stubborn they are," Duo replied ingenuously, opening his violet eyes wider. "Here we both were, just minding our own business and as soon as Sally left, they mobbed us with wooden bats, but we fought them off. Then they tried to hit us over our head and drag us out of the way, but Odin and I have these _really strong skulls, so we brushed it off…barely."_

"Right, because you're such a numbskull, you didn't feel a thing…" Hilde muttered under her breath. There was a ripple of laughter across the room, but Duo pretended to ignored her.

"Then Hilde said she'd never cook for me again," He sighed regretfully, "and then what could I do against that threat? So we had no choice but to open the doors and let them enter."

"In other words, you went and got them as soon as Miss Sally fell asleep." Midii concluded, crossing her arms across her chest. 

"Oh well…sometin' like dat…" Odin agreed. An unrepentant smirk crinkled at the corner of his eye, causing the scar on his cheek to wrinkle and fold over itself. "But Rel was already awake an' we knew tha'the rest o'us would worry otherwise, so…." He threw his hands out in an all-encompassing gesture, "Here we all be. Ye know that th'Lady Dorothy would be 'ere too, but she's still sleepin' off th'drugs and Quatre's makin' sure she's alright whilst she sleeps."

Midii sighed quietly, surrendering to the inevitable. "If I didn't already want to be here to talk to you, My Lady…"She walked to the side of the bed to kiss Relena on the cheek before bowing and brushing her own forehead lightly with three fingers. "Lady Relena. I am relieved that you are on your way to recovery. Your brother was very worried for your health."

"Worried?" Relena asked with a slight smile at what was probably a diplomatic attempt to be less than truthful. 

"Frantic." Midii corrected herself, "unreasonable, frenetic, and calmly hysteric…I say calmly because it doesn't befit the Prelate to act like a 'half-crazed, completely impossible elder brother that just might be a few brays short of an ass.' Your sister-in-law's words, not mine." Midii added as Relena groaned, slumping back on the bed. Heero had stiffened slightly, an unreadable expression crossing his face, but Relena didn't notice.

"Wonderful…" Relena sighed, "I'm surprised he isn't here himself to make sure that his little sister hasn't been foolish enough to get skewered by a Dominion sword."

"He would've been."

"WHAT??" Midii's lips twitched in a wry half smile as the room exploded in snickers at Relena's horrified expression

"He would've come himself," Midii repeated calmly, as if she wasn't shocking the hell out of her commanding officer. "Except Lady Consort Noin drugged his food and locked him in the chambers until he had had a good night's sleep and a day to think the incident over thoroughly." She considered something thoughtfully, as if trying to decide whether or not she should say any more, but then she shrugged, shaking her head.

"That can't be the end of it…" Hilde observed shrewdly, "There's something else you aren't telling us, isn't there?"

"Yeah…you'd have expected Lord Prelate to do something rash after the announcement…" Duo remarked, narrowing amethyst eyes at her. "So what is it?"

Midii blinked back at him. "That would be considered gossiping about my sovereign which is plainly unacceptable." She said primly, undaunted by the groans and boos of disappointment that followed her statement. She shifted slightly, even though a small smile flickered on her lips. She had not intended to come in here to banter with her fellow Preventors at the Prelate's expense. The Preventor Captain needed to know that a Barton spy was already planted in the Dominion. There was no time to—

"The Prelate is your brother." The room was suddenly silent as a new voice entered into the conversation and all eyes swung to the taciturn Dominioner. Relena's smile froze on her face and her eyes chilled, then she forced herself to relax, shrugging her uninjured shoulder slightly in tacit confirmation.

"Yes." She replied. Her face assumed a mask of such serenity that it bordered on apathy and she spoke in a cool, objective tone that matched Heero's in its lack of emotion. She could have been talking about the weather in the Silver Isles or the quality of the year's crop harvest and still have the same conversation lilt of her voice. "Milliardo Peacecraft once called Zechs Marquis, Lightning Count, and now Prelate after my late Lady mother, Prelate Kilan Millerna Peacecraft, is my brother. And what of it, Sir Yuy?" 

Her expression remained passive but she watched Heero's reaction's with tense, hawk eyes, her fingers buried into the bed sheets betraying her tension. He didn't respond except for an angry clench of his jaw, so Relena sent her Preventors a quick, pleading glance. They took the hint immediately, murmuring awkward excuses before they slipped through the doorway, leaving the couple alone. The door clicked, almost inaudibly, behind them, but Relena hardly noticed the small sound. 

"You were not told?" She asked quietly.

"No."

"Then I understand why you are angry." His silence was damning, as if she had, in some, unexplainable way, betrayed him.  

When nothing else was forthcoming, Relena looked down as a quick lance of pain went down her arm. Her fingers were clenched so tightly that the knucklebones shone white through the skin and the muscles of her arms stood out, causing her wound to constrict painfully. Taking a deep breath, she forcibly loosened her fingers, relaxing each muscle one by one until her upper arm stopped throbbing in protest. 

"That's understandable." She said. 

"Are you here to spy for on us for your brother?"

The toneless question had Relena's head shooting up, her azure eyes sparking with vexation. "If someone was sent to spy, it would be one of our undercover agents, not me. I merely command the Preventors Unit, which specializes in diplomatic interaction in addition to field training. Look at them. Dorothy and Quatre have been trained since they were in swaddling clothes to be ambassadors. Hilde has been drilled endlessly in Court manners and ritualistic address. Even Duo and Odin, for all they don't care to show it, are well versed in the same. Each one of them can take over ambassadorial duties if they needed to. _That is why the Prelate sent us and not any other group."_

Prussian blue eyes narrowed at her and Heero remarked coolly, "He could have sent another commander. Why his own sister?"

Relena gave him an unladylike snort. "Let another feckless wet-behind-the-ears idiot command _my Preventors? Someone that doesn't know how we operate and the worth of each person on this unit? I don't think so. And you are going to ask if there are other units that could handle this job. Yes there are. But why not my cousin, Lord Leonard Winner of the Wolflings instead? Why not Lady Sylvia Noventa, who has joint command of the Rei Angels with Lord Bernard Noventa? Sylvia, by the way, is our half-sister, same father, but mothered by Father's second wife. There are other units of course, but none that were trained for diplomacy only, as Duo so eloquently puts it, 'the usual slipshod mess of slaughter and killing', which I don't think his Excellency would approve of. In any case, you would have to deal with one or another of my brother's royal court, it just so happens that the Preventors are the best that the Sanq has to offer. And it just so happens that they are under __my command." _

She tossed her head back defiantly, pride and audacity bringing a slight flush to her over-pale face and her lackluster eyes sparkled with more life. Heero guessed that any slight against herself, she would brush off easily, but none against the men and woman that she had trained with such diligence. They were the one pride and vanity that she permitted herself. 

She caught her breath, struggling to control her temper and what she knew was becoming an irrational rant, before continuing in a more normal tone of voice. "Relationship with the Prelate aside, after all is done and said, I am still competent enough to carry out this assignment. And my Preventors, more than qualified." She managed a weak smile. "In any case, if we are going to duel over my unit's honor again, I ask only for a few week's grace to," She raised her bandaged arm, "recuperate."

"You tell 'em, Rel!" 

Both their eyes immediately swiveled towards the oaken doors where they could hear other voices hissing after Duo's untimely interruption. There was a small scuffle and a few muffled thumps of a body slammed against the granite floor followed by heartfelt cursing and threats. "Duo, you twit!" "Ye young, loudmouthed idjit!" "Very good, Idiot. I'm glad you've lost none of your stupidity, or I would worry." 

The last, obviously Midii, was dry and exasperated, the door opened slightly, her voice coming out bland, but with a tinge of embarrassment.  "As everything seems all right, we will be retiring for the evening, Lady Relena.  Is there anything else you might need?"

Relena choked, resisting the urge to press the palms of her hands against her cheeks to hide the blush that waved a red flag across her cheeks. _Was it possible to die of shame? She wondered, __And__ after that whole rant about the Preventors being the best unit for diplomatic situations. There goes that impression. He probably thinks he's dealing with a company of half-trained nitwits. Oh damnit, when I get my hands on you, Duo, you'll be praying to Inshala that I'm so merciful as to **just**__ murder you!_

"My Lady?" Midii's voice held a note more concern, the gap of the door opening a little wider. "Are you all right?"

Gathering her wits about her, Relena shook her head slightly, forgetting that at this angle, Midii couldn't see her anyway, "Nothing, Midii. Although…" She hesitated, remembering "you needed to tell me something?" 

There was silence at the other side of the door, heavy with uncertainty. Then, "It will wait for another night, my Lady Captain. My apologies again. Lady Relena, Sir Yuy, good night."  The panel of wood closed again, the edge scraping lightly against the stone floor before fitting snuggly into its frame with a soft snick. The smooth sound of heavy footfalls fell away, interrupted only by an occasional raised voice and loud protest before even those faded, dominated by the soft coo of birds nesting outside her window. 

Heero glanced down at Relena. She was embarrassed; her head ducked lower between her shoulder blades so that her hair, skeins of molten gold, tumbled over her shoulders to hide her flushed face. Her eyes were closed tightly and her jaw clenched, working in silent circles until he could almost hear her teeth grinding together. 

"I'm sorry." She began quietly, her voice low and tense, "Be assured that I will _talk," She spat the word out, "to my people about—" _

"Forget it."

Relena's head shot up, surprise making her eyes round and wide. "Forget it?" She repeated dumbly, "My unit just made an ass of itself. My Preventors were _eavesdropping like little children or…or shameless busybodies—" _

"Forget it." He repeated, then unbelievably, grinned, the corners of his mouth turning up in self-deprecatory smile as if he remembered something about himself that he would rather forget. A rare, sardonic humor sparkling in his dark blue eyes as he leaned back, head tipped back to rest on the wall. "They were only worried. It is natural." Then the humor was gone as soon as it came and he looked back on her with a perturbed expression on his face. "It is my duty to tell his Excellency to tell him of your relationship to the Prelate."

Relena blinked. "He knows."

Both eyebrows rose in surprise and he dropped his crossed arms to his side. "Treize knows?"

She nodded once, her azure eyes wary, "Of course. Lord Kushrenada fostered Treize to the Sanq Kingdom for one summer where he met Milliardo. They became, and are still friends, as I remember. My brother and Lord Treize still keep up a healthy correspondence and I've no doubt that my brother told Treize of my arrival. In fact," She glanced at him quickly before averting her face, "I wrote him myself. That is why it was so astonishing to me that you did not know."

Tbc… 

**Mama-sama- AHH!! Gomen nasai!! L I WAS going to have HildexDuo, but there was plot inconsistencies at the moment and we'll have some of them later on, GOMEN!**

**Goldberry****- Are you having fun in vacation? : )  Hope so!! I won't be here when you get back, I think…I'll be in Hong Kong! *twitch* no…internet connection…for ten days….*faints* N'wayz…MOUSIE!! : D *grabs n'hugz* Squiggles: "Meep…XP" M'a mouse too…born in the year of the…rat….-_-;; kawaii squiggles!**

**Preventor**** Zero- I actually looked up on that, and it appears ur right….-_-;; Although I don't think I borrowed from the plotline, maybe description of the horses were similar though, but I can't see anything else. Gomen, and thanx for pointing it out. **

**Athame- Oi….-_-;; um…well…I've never heard my original story called THAT before…depressing, angsty, stupid, yes, but over-exaggerated, poetic etc. etc. excuse not to finish Prelates…well…*sweatdrop* o.O;; Um…I prefer to call it a muse fart? XD hee hee.**

**Lmc****- *grinz* probly, I like that couple too, and since Trowa's taken for the fic….well…*shoves Doroko at an unsuspecting Q-chan…they both end up sprawled across the floor* Doroko: SABLE NO BAKA!!!! SHI-NE!!! *yanks out her saber* Sable: o.O MUST RUN NOW!!! **

**Kristine- pivotal moment my nardling arse….PPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTHHHHHHH :P  *kicks* arigato *kick* for beta-ing for me *kick* and teasing me *kick* throughout the writing of this *kick* entire chapter!!! *growlz n' glares* not to mention almost making me choke to death……let me give you a BIG hug to show how thankful I am…   : D Come here sweetie, I just wanna say how GRATEFUL I am to have such a WONDERFUL friend that ENCOURAGES me throughout…someone like you!!! Heh heh heh…lol, jk. No really, thanx . : )**

**^.^****Cat, SJ- um…*sweatdrop* I updated? :D gomen for the wait…muse and I had trouble negotiating a clause in her contract…-_-;; it was the amount of hours that she was supposed to be OUT of vacation per week.**

**Nova- : ) well, Wufei's still in his corner sulking or whatever chauvinists do in their free time…hee hee…^^ I'll get back to him laters, okayz?**

**Ving**** fa Wolf- um…gomen…*sweatdrop* definition of 'long time' is definitely skewed around me…: D and about the action with the couples…um…I dunno? -_-;; I'm just a baka writer, I don't know how these characters are going to act…THEY're the one's in charge. *poutz and glares at GW characters…they all glare back* oi…**

**Ley- deceit…:-P I think that chapter was pulled out of the ear of my angst demon…*mutters and pulls out contract* "Cruelty towards characters is allowed, if not encouraged…" *kicks angst demon in the butt* jerk.**

**Nightflame- type with my toes? *toes wiggle unresponsively* erp….I don't think they're flexible enough, thank you!! *grinz***

**Kurisutaru-hime****, Amanda Dale- arigato ne!!! : ) Trowa and Midii are such interesting characters to deal with, especially Midii since no one knows much about her, you can give her a personality and life. It's really fun!******

**Starlight Gundam, Meio-chan- *Grinz* oi…with a woman like Midii after his tail, probably, eh? LOL…*Grinz* The most dangerous thing in the world is a woman slighted…or something like that. I forgot who said it…but it's true!!**

**Silver Wing, Dark Ayanami, stargirl2004- arigato for reviewing….=^^=;; gomen, I didn't update sooner, but well…muse problems. As well as plot problems…:-P joy….argh**

**Vicky Mckillop- ^^ np. I hope some of your problems with the story **


End file.
